


see it through my eyes (love me like no other)

by IndieBughead



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, also i updated my tags cause the previous ones were boring, and now theyre in the same city, be warned, bughead au, bughead galore!, cheronica is a thing as it should be, ethel muggs saves the day!, hints of smut cause i refuse to write the dirty, in which betty and jug discover they liked each other in high school, its an AU people, little to no angst!, lots of friendship cause friends are better than boyfriends according to hermione lodge, sabrina and jughead are roomies and bffs, sabrina is my favorite character to write here, supportive friends!, the riverdale kids hit ny, what else do you need to know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-04-13 12:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14112411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndieBughead/pseuds/IndieBughead
Summary: When Betty Cooper meets Sabrina Spellman on her first day of graduate school at NYU, she’s not expecting her to say she knows her. Or that she knows Jughead. Or that Sabrina and Jughead are roommates, and they’re in NYC. She hasn’t seen her childhood best friend in a while, and it makes her feel...something. Something she hasn’t felt in a while, not since those late nights at the Blue & Gold, solving mysteries, her now estranged best friend Juggie by her side.A Bughead college AU





	1. one

 

 

 

 

 

Betty is fixing herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen when she hears consecutive loud knocking against her apartment door, followed by the muffled sound of Veronica’s voice screeching, _“You’re going to be late for your first day of class, B!”_

 

Betty rolls her eyes as she slowly takes a sip of her warm energizing drink while walking towards the door. She opens it to reveal her pajama clad best friend leaning against the wall on the left side of her apartment inspecting her nails while wearing a sly grin on her face.

 

Betty chuckles at the sight. “ _Really_ , V? You expected me to be sleeping in or running around my apartment at this hour?”

 

Veronica laughs, pushing Betty slightly to the side to let herself inside the blonde’s apartment. She takes notice of the brown leather satchel Cheryl and her had bought Betty when she had been accepted to her graduate program at NYU. It’s already packed up and sitting on the couch, making her smile fondly at how organized her blonde friend is.

 

Veronica perches herself on one of the kitchen stools while Betty walks around the kitchen picking up a new cup of coffee for Veronica, sugar in hand. She raises her eyebrows at the Latina girl, waiting for her to initiate the conversation _—_ and reveal the real reason she’s here so early. She sets the cup in front of Veronica and leans against the kitchen counter, expectant.

Veronica takes a big a sip of coffee, grimacing at the taste and immediately going for the handful bags of sugar Betty had placed next to the cup in anticipation. Satisfied with the now saturated sweet taste (Betty would never understand how Veronica can pour so much sugar into her coffee and still look the way she does), she looks up to meet Betty’s amused stare.

 

“So, where’s Cheryl?” asks Betty, a hint of concern hiding behind her naturally peppy tone.

 

Veronica sighs, leaning back in her chair and letting her head fall onto the kitchen island next to her cup of coffee.

 

“Is it that obvious?” she tilts her head slightly to the side to look up at Betty through her black tresses. Betty walks over to her, leaning against the island next to her chair. She pats Veronica's back reassuringly a few times before settling for a soothing rub across her shoulders.

 

“Um, I’m not saying I don’t appreciate you seeing me off on my first day of grad school — but we both know you’re not usually awake so early on a Monday,” her eyes flicker to the clock flashing 6:23 on the stove before continuing, the movement not going unnoticed by Veronica, who scrunches her face at the offending reminder.

“So my guess is Cheryl left last night?”

 

Veronica sits up straighter, clearing her hair from her face and fixing her warm brown eyes to stare at the cup of coffee now. The expression on her face betrays of yearning.

 

“Yeah, she’s got a couple of meetings in London. She’ll be back by Friday though,”she turns her eyes upon Betty, who has somehow inched closer to her side, her hand still soothing.

She has shifted so that her hip is resting slightly on the stool beside Veronica’s. Betty gives her a smile painted with understanding, gently urging her to go on.

 

“is it pathetic how I can’t sleep if she’s not next to me? Am I that girl now, B?”

 

Betty purses her lips, allowing herself a minute before answering. She has known Cheryl pretty much her entire life as they had both grown up in the small upstate town of Riverdale, and they’re third cousins on her father’s side too.

Veronica had been a late inclusion to their group of friends—arriving before the start of their sophomore year in high school— quickly understanding and dominating the admittedly small social sphere of Riverdale as she had done in New York City. To no one’s surprise, except maybe Betty’s, who had harbored a crush on Archie for the most part of middle school, Veronica had fallen prey to Archie Andrew’s All American charms. It was over almost as soon as it had started; Archie hadn't been able to commit to just one girl, much to Veronica’s disappointment.

On the other side, Cheryl hadn’t exactly been the best of friends to Betty, or to any of them if she were being honest.  But she had mellowed out towards the end of their high school years, growing closer to Betty and Veronica, and being less of a bitch towards Jughead.

 

He had been Betty’s other best friend, who had been the victim of Cheryl’s cruel and classist jokes ever since they were toddlers. It didn’t really come as a surprise to her when, during their first year of college, Betty and Veronica at NYU and Cheryl at Columbia, the latter two had begun a relationship. At first it had been difficult, what with Cheryl’s strict mother and Veronica’s traditionally religious parents, but they had made it through together and graduated college. Just last month, they had switched their living arrangements.

 

Betty and Veronica had lived in their Washington Heights apartment for 3 years now, after moving out of their NYU dorms at the end of their Freshman Year. The Lodges, Veronica’s parents, had insisted in them moving into a nicer part of town, and had paid for their apartment in full. Betty hadn’t felt comfortable at first _—_ had adamantly insisted on taking care of her half _—_ but Veronica had rolled her eyes and assured her it was no big deal, and how she was welcome to benefit from her parents’ wealth.

 

Cheryl had lived in an apartment by herself a few neighborhoods over, but when things with Veronica had turned serious, and the apartment across theirs had been vacated, it was a no brainer. Cheryl had moved into their building only a year before, basking in the benefits of living across her girlfriend and her closest friend/cousin.

Betty had heartily agreed when just last month, Cheryl and Veronica had sat her down and nervously asked her if she’d be okay with Veronica moving across the hall with Cheryl, leaving her by herself. After being a witness of their relationship, all their rough patches and abundant good moments, Betty did not hesitate to answer, taking one of Veronica’s hands on her own.

 

“It’s not pathetic at all, Ronnie. I think it’s so sweet how much you love her! And let’s be honest here, you’ve always been that girl, even if you like to think you’re not,” Veronica lets out a chuckle at this, half-heartedly rolling her eyes while smiling. “And you can knock on my door anytime, whether it’s to pass the time or to talk about anything. I’m always up this early, you know that.”

 

“Yeah…years of trauma from you waking up at ungodly hours to go out for a run,” Veronica quips with a faux huff of annoyance, making Betty laugh. She reaches up and gives her a one armed hug. “You’re the best Betty. So, you ready to take NYU by its graduate horns, Amanpour?”

 

Betty giggles at that, always finding Veronica’s ability to make quirky pop culture references funny, even if they border on offensive at times —something she suspects has rubbed off from Cheryl.

 

“I mean, I thought I had already—I did graduate from there,” Betty halts, her brow furrowing as she speaks.“Although, hm _—_ yeah. I do feel a little intimidated. It’s new people, from other schools too, and new expectations, and professors and…” Betty’s voice hitches up a couple of octaves, letting her insecurities show momentarily.

Veronica sighs, knowing exactly what, or _who_ exactly, is running through her best friend’s mind. Years of knowing Betty have familiarized her with the pressure bomb named Alice Cooper.

 

She squeezes Betty’s hand, only now noticing that the blonde’s grip on her own hand has tightened considerably. Veronica tries to make her voice as reassuring as possible, but a hint of firmness seeps through.

 

“B, chill. You graduated top of your class, and everyone at NYU journalism loves you. Besides, isn’t it exciting? Meeting new and interesting people with different backgrounds, maybe even finding a cute guy…”she trails off, her classic Veronica Lodge slyness coming through.

 

Betty stands up straight as she catches the time on the stove again and sighs when she realizes that she needs to get moving. Walking over to the sink, she places the empty cup and speaks over her shoulder as she rinses the remnants of coffee away.

 

“I guess it could be a little exciting. But I’m not looking to date anyone, V,” she turns the water off and hangs the cup to dry, making sure it doesn’t wobble as she steps away to towel off her hands.

 

“Nobody said anything about dating…” she hears from behind her, the teasing tone ringing through the kitchen. She can almost see the smirk on Veronica’s face as she walks around the living room picking up her satchel and slipping into her nude flats, placed conveniently by the door the night before.

She traces back to the kitchen island, where Veronika is still sitting smugly while twirling a spoon around her now surely cool coffee, the morning breeze of late September wafting through Betty’s open window.

 

“I don’t think I’ll have the time for anything, really. This program is really tight already, so I’ll be lucky if I even get to see you guys.  And Archie and Val. Remember Adam in junior year?” Betty exaggerates a shiver as she remembers her 8 month boyfriend yelling at her in the middle of a NYU hall for not picking up her phone during finals week. Needless to say, she had dumped him right there and then.

 

“I don’t think I can handle that kind of drama again,” she grimaces. Betty walks over to the coat rack, picking out a navy blue jacket that suits her outfit for the day. She shrugs it on as Veronica swivels around in her chair and gets to her feet, walking to the sink to deposit the cup. She turns the water on and gently scrubs the colorful piece of porcelain, humming.

 

“Hm, yeah. Shame. He was pretty hot. _You_ were pretty fond of his hands, I remember.” She winks at Betty, who immediately flushes red.

 

She half-heartedly regrets having shared that information with her best friend, but finds it to be true nonetheless. He _had_ pretty amazing fingers. Betty hadn’t let things progress further than that in their relationship, and she’s thankful she had after how things ended between them.

She could still allow herself to mourn the loss of those _long_ and _dexterous_ fingers, though. Giggling despite herself, she walks over to the sink where Veronika is just placing her cup next to the one Betty had used on the rack.

 

She sighs theatrically to Veronica’s amusement, in a “what are you going to do about it” manner. “Well, with that tremendously sad reminder of how lonely I am, and yes I know, _I know_ we’ve been over this already, it’s because I don’t have the time, okay!” she adds when Veronica opens her mouth to protest, no doubt to remind her there are plenty of guys interested in her.  Betty thinks this to be a bit of an exaggeration, and has been vocal in telling Veronica that multiple times.

 

Veronica closes her mouth and before she can say anything else, Betty crouches down a little to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I have to bolt to the station! Text me when you decide to turn into the adult I know you are—and update me on the Carson case when you get to the office, okay?”

 

Betty sprints to the door, taking her subway card out of her satchel and sliding it on the left back pocket of her jeans for easy access. Veronica joins her by the door, amused at how Betty’s eyes move fast across the room to check if she has everything she needs for the day.

 

“Yes, ma’am. Text me to let me know you got to school safe. I’ll have pizza and wine ready tonight at 8, sound good?” Veronica asks, stepping out of the apartment while Betty locks up and turns around, facing the hall that leads to the elevator and the stairs.

She nods while displaying her signature Cooper smile, all teeth for show, and with a wave hurries down the hall into the stairs, light a skip in her step. Veronica lingers outside the apartment for a minute, shaking her head with fondness as she watches Betty disappear down the stairs.

 

 

The walk to the station from her apartment is a quick one, so in no time Betty finds herself sitting on the subway. Her hands are clasped tightly on her lap and she’s finding breathing a little hard a task.

She’s a 24 year old woman, an honor graduate at NYU —and still, she can’t shake off the pressure her mother has instilled upon her growing up. _Sit up straighter Elizabeth, that burger has too many carbs Elizabeth, A B+ Elizabeth_... _Unacceptable_. That word still makes Betty shudder, and she has caught herself several times closing her eyes and taking a deep breath when she hears it casually on other people’s lips. Of course, that is not the only word her mother used for her _—_ in fact she had used some that were considerably worse, probably. But that word felt more like a disappointment, something Betty had grown accustomed to feeling and that had created so many of her insecurities.

 

Throughout the years, and with distance from her mother, she has learned to accept that her anxiety is deep rooted in her after years and years of trying to be perfect to fit her mother’s insanely high standards. This has definitely strained their relationship, as Betty avoids talking to her mother as much as she can, even if she can’t really shake off her weekly call, much as she wishes to. She has tried to, by ignoring a call and later sending her mom a text with an excuse, but she found that the call that came the Friday after was way worse, so she has resigned herself to speaking on the phone with Alice Cooper every Friday for about 7 minutes.

 

Lately, the calls have strayed from their usual check up — _have you been avoiding high carbs you know they make your tummy bloat or did you talk to the professor to get extra credit_ _—_ to questions about her personal life.

Her mother’s concern for her relationship status makes her nauseous. Betty hadn’t been much of a dater through her major; she had only dated 3 guys and none of them she thought of as serious, never even considering the possibility of her mother meeting them. Alice has been dropping not at all subtle hints here and there about her age, how she has to think about children, how the clock is ticking and closing up on her and every time Betty wonders if her mom is oblivious enough to not notice that that's exactly what she has been doing to her all her life, too.

 

She gets up from her seat to change to a different subway line, the same routine she has perfected for  the past 3 years. As she walks out of the subway and sprints to wait for the D train, her conversation with Veronica begins to replay in her mind.

Veronica had been right about something (she usually was); the possibility of meeting a cute and interesting guy in one of her classes is appealing and exciting, but she really doesn’t think she’d have the time to date. She files into the train, pushed by people all around her. Betty’s mouth quirks up involuntarily in a contented smile. She _loves_ New York. She loves how many people are always surrounding her. At first it had given her terrible anxiety, but with time and routine, she found herself yearning the buzz and the excitement of the city. It gives her a sort of peace that she doesn't think she could be able to articulate through words. It's one of those things that are just there, inexplicably making her happy. _Maybe this is all I need for now_ , she thinks as she exits the subway and bounces up the concrete stairs to stand at Broadway Lafayette St. her feet moving at their own accord towards her building.

 

Walking into the hall on the 3rd floor, Betty hypes herself up as she slowly approaches room number 307. She takes a deep breath, replaying her therapist's words of advice as she checks her watch and straightens her collar to anchor herself to the _right now_ and not the _what ifs_ (which is where her mind starts to spiral and collapse).

She turns the knob and the door swings open to reveal an almost empty class, with the exception of a sour looking guy around her age sitting on the second row of desks. Betty purses her lips; while she 's grateful for the fact that she has time to choose a seat to her liking, she isn 't fond of the fact that the guy is already occupying the row she usually goes for. Her breeding tells her to go for the first row _—_ a snarky little voice that sounds an awful lot like her mother.  Shaking her head in an attempt to shake her off, she compromises by choosing the 3rd row—as it would be weird for her to sit by him when the class is pretty much empty.

The guy looks up at her from where he had previously been staring at his notebook, and she realizes she must look pretty stupid standing by the door while staring at him. She gives him a small quick smile, and settles for a seat in the middle of the third row. She hears more people coming into the class as she sits down busying herself with taking out her binder, her favorite pen, several colored markers and her bottle of water.

 

 Betty checks her phone. There's only 10 more minutes until class starts. She sends Veronica a quick text letting her know she has gotten to class on time. With no one else to text she opens up her Facebook page to distract herself, scrolling through countless engagement pictures and baby announcements, as it seems to be the norm now for people her age on social media. She smiles at one in particular, her friend Midge holding up her left hand while Moose, her now fiancé, holds her close.

Both are beaming at the camera, and she can’t help but comment her congratulations. Satisfied with her comment, she goes back to her feed but something catches her eye. _Jughead Jones checked in at JFK airport, yesterday at 1:03 p.m._ quickly, she clicks on his name to see if he has checked in anywhere else in New York, or has been tagged in any pictures recently.

Jughead’s Facebook page was, for lack of a better word, barren. His profile picture was the same he used to have back in high school, a black and white picture Veronica had taken of him from across their usual booth at Pop’s sometime during senior year. His expression gave away the fact that he hadn’t been aware of the picture being taken as he was wearing a little smirk on his face, no doubt at something Archie had been saying. Betty has a harder time than she’d like to admit taking her eyes off the picture, a series of feelings— mostly nostalgic— filling her senses.

Forcing her eyes away, she continues to scroll through his information. It shows him as a student at Emerson College in Boston, and the last picture he has been tagged on is from a year ago at one of Archie’s concerts back in Riverdale; Kevin Keller standing by his side as they both smile at the camera. Confused, she opens up a text message to ask Archie if Jughead is in town, and if so, why has no one told her?

 

As she’s typing the message, an older man walks in and clears his throat. A little startled, her heart racing for reasons she’d kept hidden for too long, she drops her phone into her bag and sits up straighter. The man, who she assumes is Professor Peterson according to the syllabus, walks to the front of the class and glances quickly at his wristwatch while letting his bag drop onto the desk. Satisfied with what he sees, he walks back to shut the door. As he’s about to close the door, a hand shoots up from outside and holds it open. A girl with icy blonde hair cropped in a blob stands between the door and Professor Peterson now, catching her breath. Peterson raises his eyebrows at her but steps aside to let her in. She has a sheepish expression on her face now, but it’s contradicted by her body language as she strolls confidently towards the desks.

 

Betty realizes she has been staring when the girl plops down next to her, still breathing a little hard. Betty wills herself to snap out of it, offering the girl a small smile and returning her gaze to the front of the class. Professor Peterson starts class by outlining important dates and projects, Betty intently following as she scribbles on her binder, highlighting due dates with her colored markers and concentrating hard on what he mentions are important tips to consider when organizing themselves with the course. When he stops talking Betty barely registers that he has instructed them to pair up with someone for their projects, as she had been completely focused on jotting down every detail. It isn’t until late girl next to her taps her lightly on the shoulder that her mind catches up with her, and she turns her head to meet the girl. Betty is momentarily struck at the haunting coldness of her dark blue eyes, framed by strong eyebrows _—_ her porcelain skin highlighted by the red of her lips and the dark makeup on her eyes.

 

“So, want to pair up with me?” the girl inquires, motioning vaguely towards the rest of the class. Their classmates seem to be doing the same as them, standing up to reach other people who had not paired up yet or chatting with their desk neighbors.

 

“Definitely!” Betty responds with excitement, dropping her pen on her binder and extending her hand. The girl takes it lightly in between hers.

 

“I’m Betty Cooper, pleasure to meet you.” She gives her best Cooper smile, which is returned with a much more genuine one by the other blonde, a glint of amusement and curiosity twinkling in her eye. Betty wonders briefly if she can see right through her act. Sometimes she wishes people would.

 

“I’m Sabrina Spellman, right back at you.” The girl—Sabrina— replies, dropping Betty’s hand in the process. She proceeds to open her mouth again, presumably to discuss the project they were going to work on, but she closes it abruptly.  Sabrina tilts her face towards Betty, as if to get a better view of her. Something like recognition crosses her face after a beat. Betty stares at her, unsure on how to respond to her inquiring gaze.

 

“Wait a second, Betty?” She asks, one of her perfectly arched eyebrows raising high up her forehead.

 

Before Betty can protest in defense of her name—it's not the first time someone questions why she goes by such an aging nickname— Sabrina asks, leaning even closer.  “From Riverdale?”

 

Baffled, Betty nods slowly. How on Earth would Sabrina know where she is from by just hearing her name?

 

Sabrina’s face lits up, a big smile now adorning her expression. “Oh my God _—_ Jug is going to lose it!” She exclaims, clapping her hands together.

 

 

_Wait, what?_

 

 

Betty’s mind is spinning, not quite understanding what is going on. This girl knows her. Or at least she knows who she is. And she seems to know Jughead too, which is even more strange.

 

“You know _Jughead_?” comes Betty’s response, a little late.  Her tone gives away how confused she is about the situation.

 

“Do I _know_ him?” Sabrina laughs, mirth all over her face now.  “Duh. He’s my best friend! I’ve heard _so_ much about you and Archie and Veronica, ugh. He literally would not shut up about you guys for the first couple of years at Emerson…” Sabrina trails off, grinning cheekily at her. “Wow, I feel like I know so much about you! What are the chances, huh?” She nudges her shoulder with Betty’s lightly, and her only response is to give her a half baked smile.

 

Betty can’t shake off the feeling of dread slowly creeping up on her at Sabrina’s revelation. How comfortable can she feel knowing a complete stranger knows her and really _—_ who _knows_ what she knows about her.  Suddenly, it clicks in her head. She feels a light shiver she can’t really understand run down her spine, and she turns around almost fully on her chair to face Sabrina.

 

“Wait, is _he_ here? I saw he checked into JFK but I didn’t…”Betty starts, but Sabrina interrupts her by nodding enthusiastically.

 

“Yup! He was so mad about that, he turned on his location to order an Uber and Facebook immediately checked him in. You _know_ he hates that sort of thing. He spent the whole car ride trying to delete it and deactivate the settings. It was hilarious.” Sabrina snorts, and Betty can’t help but smile at that, even in her confused state. She _does_ know, it sounds exactly like the Jughead she grew up with. “Anyway, we just got here yesterday. I got into NYU for this program and Jug is attending The New School for his MFA in Creative Writing, isn’t it awesome?”

 

 _Oh_.

 

Jughead is in New York. Her best friend. _Well_ , she thinks humorlessly, _not anymore_ . Sabrina has just called him her own best friend and Jughead probably calls her his too. She feels stupid for feeling hurt at the distinction, after all when was the last time Betty had seen him, or talked to him? Had it really been that long? Two years, she realizes. Admittedly, she had sent him a message for his birthday just last year, albeit a little short since she knows he doesn’t like the day at all. He had replied with an equally simple “thanks Betts.” Archie mentions him every once in a while, sure _—_ but he surely hadn’t said anything about him moving to New York.

 

She tries to mask her emotions by giving Sabrina another dazzling smile  while feeling exhausted on the inside. Deep down she knows she has no right to feel that way as she hasn’t exactly reached out to Jughead after all those years of being best buddies. She hopes Sabrina can’t hear the knot on her throat as she speaks in her brightest voice.

 

 

“Yeah, that’s awesome”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> If you’re reading this, thank you.  
> I posted this story a couple of days ago and with the excitement of actual people reading it I got carried away and left some pretty significant mistakes, both in content and grammar, seep through my work.  
> I have gone through some editing, and I’m 99% sure there are no longer any significant mistakes. I wanted to make sure the story was as clear as it could be.  
> Thanks again to anyone who reads this, your comments are all so lovely and much appreciated.
> 
> *This story was previously published using past tense, I changed it to present (in case anyone wonders why it looks a little different.)
> 
> Find me at indiebughead over at Tumblr


	2. two

“B, I don’t get it. Why is this a big deal again?” Veronica asks her before taking a bite out of the Margherita pizza she holds on her right hand. They’re sitting on the girls’ kitchen island; Veronica had intercepted Betty with the intent of fulfilling her promise of pizza and wine, just as she was was making her way into her own apartment after her shift at the café.

 

“It’s not that it’s a huge deal or anything. I just don’t get why he wouldn’t tell us he was moving into the city. I mean, weren’t we all best friends? That must count for _something_! I just don’t see why he wouldn’t text any of us, or anything…” Betty trails off, nibbling on her lower lip as she raises the glass of wine up to her lips.

 

“Well, we don’t know that for sure. He didn’t text _you_ , and I don’t really see a world where Jughead Jones would text _me_ out of all people. Even if we were close-ish in high school,” Veronica points out, smiling with amusement at Betty across the island. “And anyway, we don’t know if Archie knew. We’ll just have to wait for him to answer your texts when he lands in L.A.”

 

Betty had had the intention of texting Archie as soon as her first class was over and Sabrina waved her goodbye, a cheeky smile on her face. There hadn’t been much of a chance to keep inquiring about Jughead after, as Professor Peterson had decided to carry on with the class once everyone was successfully paired up. Her plan for the day, as she didn’t have any other class on Mondays, was to go to the library to check out all the books on her courses’ syllabus. She planned on getting an early start on reading them so she could stay ahead of class.  When she was walking towards the library, her boss had phoned her to ask if she was available to pick an earlier shift, as her coworker Amanda had asked for the day off. Betty struggled with saying no, she always had. So she found herself carrying 4 large textbooks in her pink tote bag—the one she thankfully carried around on her satchel for situations like this—all the way from the library to the coffee shop. It had been a busy day, the amount of students coming and going making Betty refill their cups or clean their messes had kept her mind occupied all day. When her boss finally signaled that she could leave, mentioning how her paycheck would reflect the extra hours, Betty had been so tired that it wasn’t until she was sitting in the train that she remembered to text Archie. She sent him a couple messages, first saying hi and asking about Valerie, out of politeness, then inquiring if he knew anything about Jughead being in town.

As she waited for his response, she opened up her Facebook page and, on a whim, searched for Sabrina. She found her easily enough, there weren’t many icy blonde Sabrina Spellman’s, it seemed. Unlike Jughead’s, Sabrina’s page was filled with pictures of her, and some of him too, which weren’t tagged— she presumed that if Sabrina was really Jughead’s best friend now, she would know better than to mortify him with social media presence _._ As she scrolled past pictures of Sabrina with two older ladies who shared similar features, she stumbled upon a picture that caught her entire attention: a mop of dark brown curls next to an icy blonde blob. They were both grinning at the camera, though Sabrina seemed to be staring straight at it while Jughead’s face was slightly tilted towards hers. Sabrina’s left arm was snaked around Jughead’s waist while his right arm lay casually over her shoulder, a nice city view behind them. Betty stared at it, longer than she would like to admit, carefully taking in Jughead.

He looked the same as he always had in most aspects, his tall figure standing over Sabrina’s significantly shorter one. He did seem to have filled out a little, though. And his smile seemed more genuine, like the ones he used to share with her in the quiet moments at the Blue & Gold office on early mornings, where they used to meet up to discuss their paper and the mysteries surrounding their town. Or when he’d sit with her late at Pop’s, him with a book or his laptop and her with a textbook doing homework. They’d share secrets then, he’d tell her about his dad or his sister and she’d show him her hands, littered with crescent shaped scars she inflicted on herself, as she sobbed because of her mom. She wasn’t expecting to see that expression on his face, if she were being honest, she always thought it was one reserved for her—his best friend. She quickly closed the picture, deciding she didn't enjoy the feeling that was starting to settle on her stomach. She checked to see if Archie had replied to her messages. Sighing when she noticed he hadn’t, she slid her phone into her satchel and closed her eyes.

 

When the train signaled her stop, she got up and walked over to the sliding doors. Her mind was still swirling with the image of Jughead, a feeling she hadn’t felt since high school washing over her despite her reluctance. She had long accepted that while they had had an amazing friendship that helped her overcome many of her insecurities, there had always been something more, at least on her end. It was hard to read Jughead, sometimes she got the impression that he may have felt the same way, but it disappeared as soon as it came. She had never told anyone, although she heavily suspected that Veronica might have known at some point. It had all crashed down when graduation came and Jughead announced his decision to attend Emerson College, in Boston, far away from her in New York. Betty had been so proud of him, but silently she wondered if that was going to be the end of them, and whatever could have happened between them. They made plans to meet over breaks and holidays, but college life and responsibilities soon consumed all of their time. They texted and called a lot during their first year, but with time their contact became less and less, until they only talked when they saw each other over Christmas break back in Riverdale. Her feelings for him dissipated over time, too. She had found herself going on dates, going to parties and making out with guys she would never see again, until the thought of Jughead was far gone. Or so she thought.

 

Walking into her building, Veronica had dragged her inside hers and Cheryl’s apartment, pizza already waiting on the counter, two glasses and a bottle of red wine by its side. When Betty had recounted everything to Veronica and expressed her frustration with Archie for not replying to her texts, Veronica had amusedly reminded her that Archie had left for L.A to record a demo that same afternoon.  He was probably on a plane as they spoke.

 

“Yeah, I guess. It just feels weird, him being here after all this time…” Betty continues, staring at the fridge behind Veronica with her eyebrows furrowed slightly, an almost vacant expression on her face. She misses the small smirk playing on her best friend’s mouth, and the glimmer in her eyes that accompanies it.

 

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be seeing him in no time. Don’t worry about it Betty,” Veronica says, cleaning her hands with a napkin.

 

“Want some more wine?” She asks, reaching for the bottle and Betty’s glass already, making Betty snap out of her thoughts and turn to her.

 

“Sure, why not?” She picks her glass from where Veronica is holding it out for her, swishing it slightly before continuing. “Tell me about the Carson case, are you taking it to court?” Veronica claps her hands excitedly, setting her glass down as she begins to speak.

 

Betty sits there until it's late enough to go to bed, listening to her best friend rant about the inefficiency of the New York legal system, thoughts of dark haired boys with crown shaped beanies floating through her mind.

 

 

 

 

Her first week of classes goes by rather quickly and without a hitch. Most classes have so far consisted of reading the syllabus and forming work groups, which leaves Betty with little to do. She does carry her books around her with her, reading as much as she can between breaks at the coffee shop or during the subway ride.  As it turns out, she shares almost all her classes with Sabrina so they naturally ended up pairing up for most projects. Sabrina seems nice enough and really smart, which doesn't really strike her as a surprise. She has a small running suspicion that Sabrina is a top of her class kind of girl too, albeit a little more relaxed than Betty. She speaks with confidence, defends her point of view fiercely, and poises herself with a grace that Betty envies. The few interventions she has made during classes so far have been well received, and anyone can tell she is a committed journalist. She hasn’t brought up the topic of Jughead much, only briefly mentioning him in passing on Wednesday morning as they were walking out of class. Betty had been dying to know more about her friend, but she had bit her tongue whenever the impulse to ask about him came to her. Archie had texted her back sometime around Tuesday morning, admitting that he had been so caught up with his trip to California that he had forgotten to mention that Jughead was moving to New York. This would’ve infuriated her coming from anyone else, but it was Archie— he had a hard time remembering where he’d placed his phone while holding it on the other hand .

 

His last text included Jughead’s cell phone number (as if she doesn’t already have him in her contact list) and Betty still wonders if he was expecting her to text him. She hasn’t had the courage to yet, and her efforts have been further hindered everytime she thinks of how ridiculous it would be to text him now: it’s Friday, she knows he knows she has had his phone all this time, and he has been in the city for almost a week now.

 

As they walk out of the building on Friday morning, Sabrina talking her ear off about how weird their professor’s moustache is, Betty decides to broach the subject of meeting up sometime to discuss their projects before they get caught up with classes and their heavy load of papers. Giggling at Sabrina’s last comment about her professor, she interrupts her.

 

“Hey, so I was thinking we should meet up to actually set up outlines for our projects. When do you have a free afternoon?” Betty inquires, rummaging through her satchel for a stray post it note.

 

“Oh, you’re right! Hm, I don’t have to work today so that would be super convenient if you’re available too.” Sabrina responds, stopping in her tracks when she realizes that they are standing where they usually go their separate ways: Betty towards the coffee shop and Sabrina heading to the little library where she had gotten a part time job. Betty mulls it over quickly: Cheryl is bound to come back sometime today from London, so she doesn’t have plans with Veronica (unless she plans on interrupting their love fest which she would rather not after past experiences of ending alone in their living room while the other two giggle and whisper in their room), and her shift at work ends early.

 

“That’s perfect actually! Why don’t you come over to the coffee shop, I’m done at around 3. I’ll have coffee waiting _—_ on the house.” Betty says, quickly scribbling the address on a pink post it and handing it to Sabrina’s outstretched hand.

 

“Cool! Until then, Coop,” she gives Betty a big smile and a 2 finger salute that briefly reminds her of Jughead’s many years ago, before she turns around and walks away.

 

 

 

She is just finishing refilling the cinnamon shakers on the counter when she spots Sabrina walking into the coffee shop. Her eyes do a quick scan of the room before settling on Betty at the back. Betty waves at her, happy to see her new friend. Sabrina surprises her by leaning over the counter and giving her a small hug, which Betty returns automatically.

 

“Hi Sabrina! You can go sit by the window, I’ll be right there”, Betty says, walking behind the counter and signaling to her co-worker Amanda that she is about to clock off. “Oh wait, what do you want to drink?” She asks quickly, before Sabrina walks away.

 

“Black is fine, thanks.” Sabrina says with a grin, turning on her heel and setting her books by the table facing the window.

 

Amanda nudges her on the shoulder and says, “I got this, go have fun nerd.”

 

Betty laughs, taking her apron off and smiling at Amanda in gratitude. She quickly goes to the back to pick up her bag and walks over to Sabrina, sitting across from her.

 

“So, where do you want to start? Intro or Writing? I feel like those two are the most pressing, since we have to write a paper and work on a presentation…”Betty begins, her eyes moving over her binder where all the requirements and dates are scribbled neatly.

 

They spend a couple of hours like this, throwing ideas around and typing away; Sabrina preferring to use her laptop while Betty relies on her notes better. They are only interrupted by Amanda bringing their coffees over and walking to them a couple of times to offer refills. Betty gets texts from Veronica letting her know Cheryl has arrived home and that they would be busy, which makes her roll her eyes. Sabrina asks her what was up, so she tells her about them. It isn’t until Sabrina interrupts her in the middle of a sentence with a soft smile on her face to tell her that she is going to the bathroom that she realizes how long she has been talking for. As Sabrina gets up, Betty begins to tidy up their table out of habit. She closes her binder and takes out her pencil case to drop her favorite pen inside. She is about to shrug on her jacket when she hears Sabrina’s loud laugh from across the room. She looks up only to find her icy blonde head burrowed in the arms of a tall, dark haired beanie-wearing man. Betty’s stomach lurches; she doesn’t need to see his face to know who it is. She stares long enough to see Sabrina tilting her face up to meet her gaze and nudging Jughead, pointing a red nailed finger in her direction, a smirk on her face. He turns around, his eyes widening when he meets hers. The left corner of his lips quirks upwards, a quick sign of recognition. She raises her hand to wave, the only thing she can think of doing. But before she can wiggle her fingers at him he turns back to listen to Sabrina, who is telling him something quickly, before she pushes him away playfully and walks towards the bathroom.

 

Betty blushes, cursing herself at how awkward she must’ve looked waving to no one. She stares at one corner of her satchel in particular, willing her cheeks to return to their normal color. She hears feet thumping close to her, and then a very familiar voice that she hasn’t heard in a while.

 

“Hey, Betts,” says Jughead, scratching the back of his neck in the same way he always has when he feels nervous. Betty can’t help but smile at that and at the old nickname. Only he had called her that, and she had called him:

 

“Juggie, hi. Fancy meeting you here,” she cringes as soon as the words come out of her mouth, flushing at how stupid they sound. She looks at him through her lashes, the heat on her cheeks becoming uncomfortable. He chuckles lightly though, not seeming to catch her discomfort.

 

“Yeah, I had no idea you were here with Sab. She just mentioned meeting up with a classmate, but she didn’t say…” He trails off, shuffling on his feet. _Sab._

 

“Oh, well, it’s me. She mentioned that you guys knew each other…and she knew who I was, which was, _uh_ , interesting,” Betty says, tapping lightly on her satchel with her fingertips. His ears turn pink at that, making her giggle softly. He looks uncomfortable standing, and her neck is going to resent staring up at him from her seat any time soon.

 

“Um, you should sit,” she mumbles. He looks at her, almost as if he hasn’t understood what she has said for a second before he plops down on the chair where Sabrina had been sitting before, his long legs brushing against hers under the table.

 

He doesn’t say anything, instead picking up a napkin that is slightly smeared with Sabrina’s pink gloss and tearing it in tiny pieces. Betty can see his jaw twitching, a tell-tale sign of when he doesn’t know to proceed socially. She decides to cut him some slack, for both their sakes.

 

“So I heard about The New School,” she begins, voice unsure even as she gives him a smile. “Congrats Juggie. I always knew you were going to be a great writer.”

 

She _had_ always known how successful he could be, after all, she was his editor at the paper and he let her read all his short stories back in the day. She never doubted him, but she knew he had. She hopes this new chapter in his academic life would reassure him of his talent.

 

Jughead looks a little flushed when he answers. “Thanks, yeah. It was unexpected. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to pursue graduate school, but I got a pretty good scholarship and I always had wanted to experience living in New York with, um-- He clears his throat, his eyes flickering to hers before focusing on the napkin again. “You know, Archie and stuff.”

 

“And Sabrina,” she adds absent-mindedly, without really thinking about how it sounds coming from her.

 

“Uh, yeah. We’ve been living together for a while, made sense to move here together too after she got accepted into NYU,” he explains, his tone guarded. Betty nods, deciding that is enough information on that subject. Her mouth, however, does not catch up with her brain and she finds herself digging up a bigger hole.

 

“Is she…?” Her implication hangs in the air between them, heavy. Sabrina had said they were best friends, but something about it had bothered her, and she hadn’t realized how much she wanted to know until the words had left her lips. His eyes widened comically as he begins to shake his head.  Before he can deny anything, Sabrina sits down half on his lap with a huge grin on her face, which tells Betty she had heard the last part of their conversation.

 

“ _She_ is gay, and currently _—_ _unfortunately_ _—_ virtually eating Toni Topaz’s pus…” Jughead covers her mouth, muffling the end of her sentence. Sabrina snorts loudly, sticking her tongue out and licking Jughead’s hand, to which he rolls his eyes and turns to look at Betty. An apologetic yet amused expression paints his face as he wipes his hand on his jeans.

 

 _Oh_ , is all Betty can think. She feels relief flooding her veins, and she chides herself for even allowing her mind to wander into that territory.

 

“Sorry about that, we’re working on social boundaries at the moment. Sab still doesn’t seem to grasp the general discomfort of people when she says stuff like that without preamble,” he shakes his head at her,  perpetual smirk covering his face.

 

Betty can’t help but laugh. “That’s alright. I’m actually used to it after years of third wheeling Cheryl and Veronica. Nothing I haven’t heard before,” she rolls her eyes, laughing again when she catches Sabrina winking at her. “So, Toni huh? How is she these days?”

 

“Smokin’ hot, that’s how she is,” responds Sabrina with a proud smile on her lips. It makes Betty happy to hear that Toni has found someone like Sabrina, there hadn’t been a lot of openly gay or bi girls back home when they were in high school. “Still in Riverdale, though, but we’re making it work.”

 

“That’s great, Sabrina. I’m really happy for you guys. Say hi from me next time you talk to her, ask her if she remembers me,” Betty says, making a mental note to share the news with Cheryl and Veronica later.

 

Sabrina cackles, her head falling back onto Jughead’s shoulder. Jughead shifts in the chair so give her more space, and she responds by nuzzling in closer.

 

“As if anyone could ever forget about Miss Betty Cooper, huh Jug?” she jabs him on the ribs, giggling loudly when Jughead lets out a groan and a muttered “shut up, Sabrina.” Betty averts her eyes, pretending not to hear the teasing tone in Sabrina’s voice, or the way Jughead’s cheeks have reddened slightly at the comment.

 

"Anyways, we better start heading out. Salem needs feeding,” Sabrina starts, lifting herself up from the seat and picking her stuff up from the table. Betty raises her eyebrow at the odd name, silently grabbing the strap of her bag and throwing it over her shoulder. She bumps her knee with Jughead’s as she stands up, and he follows after the two girls.

 

“Her cat,” he says as a way of explanation. He places his hand lightly on her back as they walk to the door of the coffee shop, which had gotten busy. She smiles softly at the contact, and tries to hide her frown when his hand drops to his side in order to open the door for them.

 

“ _Our_ cat, don’t be mean,” scolds Sabrina as she walks out into the night. She turns around and faux whispers near Betty’s ear. “He pretends he hates Salem, but I know he pets him when I’m not around.”

 

Betty chuckles, the image of a broody Jughead petting a cat filling her mind. Sabrina reaches out and hugs Betty, leaning in closer to whisper.

 

“I’m so glad you guys saw each other, you both were killing me with the longing looks and not so subtle questions.”

 

She steps back, winking at Betty once more and waiting for Jughead to say his goodbyes, a smirk on her face as she tries to pretend she’s not paying attention.

 

“So, it was great seeing you. Sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming, and um, sorry if Sabrina said anything embarrassing to you. I just, used to talk about you guys a lot, when I started out at Emerson,” he mumbles out his explanation, his hands deep in his jean pockets, body swaying anxiously on his feet.

 

She smiles at him; corners of her mouth quirking up to show her teeth. “That’s okay. I’m really glad you’re here,” Betty says, trying to ignore her wishful hands itching to reach forward and hug him.

 

“You must be sad you missed Archie, but he should be back in around a week,” she adds, hoping the change of subject would make her itching stop.

 

“Oh yeah, no that’s fine. I was really looking forward to seeing you; I was going to text you one of these days but I didn’t know if…” _I didn’t know if you wanted me to_ , she adds in her own mind. It stings a little to think he might have thought she wouldn’t have wanted to hear from him, so she gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile.

 

“Well, now you can text me anytime you want,” she says, her overtly chipper tone sounding weird even to her own ears. She tries to tone it down when she continues.

 

“I--we should do something as soon as Archie gets here, you know, with Cher and Ronnie, and Valerie,” she rambles, her hands clinging to her bag strap now.

 

“And Sabrina too, of course. It’d be nice for her to meet us, you know, _officially_. Who knows what stories you told her about Riverdale and us,” she teases, hoping to get back to their easy back and forth banter, which had been an important part of their easy going friendship.

 

“Hardy har,” he deadpans, smiling crookedly at her. “That’d be nice, yes.”

 

He looks over his shoulder to where Sabrina is still standing; her head tilted towards them in what Betty assumes is her most subtle pose. Jughead fixes his eyes on her again.  “Text us to let us know you got home safe?”

 

He reaches forward tentatively before she can answer, grabbing one of her forearms and pulling her closer to him. Betty instinctively wraps her arms around his shoulders, inhaling his familiar scent of sandalwood and something so inherently _him_. She has missed hugging him, only now appreciating how calming it feels to do so.

 

“Sure, Juggie. Have a good night,” she whispers against the fabric of his jacket. She pulls away first, only allowing herself a few more seconds of warmth. She’s not sure if she could let go of him willingly, not again. She gives him one last grin before waving at Sabrina.

 

“Give Salem a smooch for me,” she coos, teasingly.

 

Jughead rolls his eyes and flips her off, turning on his heel to join Sabrina while calling from over his shoulder. “Bye, Betts.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Gosh, I wasn’t expecting anyone to read this and I’m slightly overwhelmed. I hope you guys continue to like it. Thank you:)  
> You can find me on tumblr at indiebughead, if you feel like talking<3


	3. three

 

 

 

“Topaz is finally getting some, good for her. Those longing looks she gave me every time I stepped foot in our darling hometown were starting to get old.”

 

They’re in Betty’s kitchen, Veronica and Cheryl standing across from her, dressed to the nines in their brunch clothes, while Betty finishes her all grain cereal .

 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, Cher,” says Veronica, carefully applying one last coat of nail polish on her pinky finger.

 

“Why on Earth would I enjoy a pair of low class snake eyes following my every move? I’m not Betty,” Cheryl snaps, her voice harsh. Betty blushes with the implication, while Veronica rolls her eyes affectionately, closing the bottle of dark purple polish and inspecting her handiwork.

 

Cheryl continues, her tone significantly softer. “But in all seriousness, I am happy for her, this Sabrina girl sounds nice.”

 

Both girls raise their eyebrows in surprise at the sudden change even if they are used to Cheryl’s hot and cold attitude by now. “Then again, no one is as lucky as Veronica here to have found a bombshell like me in Riverdale.”

 

This makes Veronica laugh, accompanied by a small giggle from Betty. Cheryl narrows her eyes playfully at both girls, but doesn't say anything else.

 

“Speaking of snake eyes…”begins Veronica, looking pointedly at Betty.

 

She has successfully avoided talking about Jughead so far, only briefly addressing his presence in order to share the news about Sabrina and Toni, but she knew either Veronica or Cheryl would  soon enough pick up on it.

 

“I may have said that as soon as Archie came back to the city we should all get together. I was thinking of hosting a nice dinner here. Sabrina should come too. Is that okay?” she avoids Veronica’s eyes just as she has avoided the question.

 

“Oh, how fun. Do I get to pick on him like I used to?” there is an evident teasing tone on Cheryl’s voice, even as she lowers it. “Do not tell him I said this, but I always did enjoy Mr. Hobo’s quick comebacks. He came up with some particularly clever ones every once in a while.”

 

Veronica snickers, brushing Cheryl’s long red tresses from behind. Betty has always admired their simple domesticity, how they reach for each other as if they are extensions of themselves. She craves that closeness with someone, if only--

 

“It’s your apartment now, B. How many times do I need to remind you? You don’t need my permission. That does sound like fun, getting the Scooby Gang back together. Let us know when you’ll be hosting so we can help with your little soirée,” Veronica claps her hands with finality, the topic closed. Her eyes move back to Betty’s and she knows what’s coming.

 

“ _But_ that’s not where I was going with this. How is he? Is he still the main model for _Dark and Broody_ magazine? Has he moved on to add new colors to his wardrobe, or are we still monochromatic?”

 

“Um, you know. He looks the same,” Betty says, a blush forming on her cheeks. She lowers her head to stare at her now empty bowl of cereal, twirling the spoon around.

 

“Dear cousin Elizabeth, do not think you can hide your sweet crimson cheeks from us. Did our resident Holden Caulfield finally _blossom_ and got hot?” Cheryl looks more than proud at her little pun, her red stained lips forming a smirk.

 

“He’s _always_ been hot,” protests Betty before she can think of it. She quickly corrects herself. “I mean, attractive. He wasn’t ugly.”

 

“Ha!” exclaims Veronica, pointing her newly painted finger at her, leaning over the kitchen island with glinting eyes. “So she _finally_ admits it. You liked Jughead in high school!”

 

Betty looks up, startled. She hadn’t realized how invested Veronica was in finding out if she had been attracted to Jughead. She had teased her multiple times during their senior year, as her and Jughead got closer, their joint responsibilities at the paper and yearbook pushing them to spend even more time together. But she had let it go after Betty had adamantly shaken her head and told her to stop.

 

“I--” She falters, the excuse ready on her tongue. She sighs, shaking her head as if resigning herself to the truth. “Yeah, I had a huge crush on him. But he never showed any interest in me so I thought _—_ ”

 

“Betty, my sweet child,” Veronica shakes her head disbelievingly at her as the corners of her mouth quirk downwards.  “That boy was in love with you.”

 

“What? No he wasn’t. He would’ve said something,” she turns to Cheryl, looking for comfort in her usual cynicism, but she finds her red haired friend regarding her with the look she reserves for when they talk about their feelings.

 

“Right, same way you told him how you felt?” she asks, tilting her head expectantly at Betty, her perfectly trimmed eyebrow raised. “Betty dear, we all saw you two dancing around each other for years. Admittedly, he started before you, but it didn’t take you long to look at him like he’d hung the moon.”

 

Betty stares at both her friends, surprise evident on her face.  She would’ve liked to ask more questions, to find comfort and reassurance on her friends’ words. Maybe they’d noticed something more, something that would make her believe that Jughead had in fact felt the same way as her. She is about to ask Veronica if she remembers any specific instance where Jughead had showed his intentions, when her phone beeps. She looks down at it, barely registering Cheryl and Veronica initiating a conversation of their own as she stares at the words flashing on her screen.

 

 

_Hey Betts. Was thinking maybe you could help me build my list of good places to eat in NY? I’ve had Chinese all week and it’s starting to get boring. Let me know._

 

 

She apparently doesn’t register the tiny squeal that comes out of her mouth either, as now both Veronica and Cheryl are on either side of her, staring at her phone curiously as they read the message. She can  feel her pulse accelerating; her palms getting sweaty. The combination of the conversation she had just been having and the message making her mind swirl. Their reactions snap her out of the blinking contest she’s been holding with her phone for the last hundred seconds.

 

“Omg, swoon B!” comes Veronica’s excited response, hugging Betty from the side.

 

“How romantic, my heart is melting, I’ll try to find some time in my schedule to attend your wedding,” drones Cheryl, impatiently tapping her foot against the floor, even while smiling crookedly at Betty.

 

Betty grins widely, albeit nervously too. She grabs her phone to type out a response, feeling Cheryl and Veronica start to move in unison beside her.

 

“Ronniekins, we’ll be late for brunch with abuelita if we don’t hurry up now.”

 

Surprisingly, Veronica’s grandmother had been very supportive of their relationship, asking them out for fancy brunches or dinners every time she could. Betty had been invited on multiple occasions, and she enjoyed Veronica’s grandma’s company thoroughly, but she had refused this time knowing that Cheryl had just gotten back from her trip, not wanting to impose.

 

“You’re right, babe,” Veronica replies, moving to grab her purse and Cheryl’s from the couch. “Betty, are you going to go have lunch with Jughead? Please say yes.”

 

Betty turns around on her chair to look at her friends as they get ready to leave, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think so, yeah.”

 

“Good girl,” Veronica praises, giving her a brief hug. “Text me your outfit before you leave. Promise,” she holds out her pinky. Betty links her own as she nods.

 

“Promise. Have fun with Adela. Please give her a hug!” Cheryl pats her knee before moving to the door, where Veronica’s already standing. They wave at Betty, Veronica walking out first, followed by the redhead, who calls loudly over her shoulder,

 

“Bye Betty, safe sex!”

 

 

 

 

Betty stares at the door long after they disappear through it, only realizing she hasn’t responded to Jughead’s text until her phone beeps again with a notification from Pinterest, lightning up her screen with the latest DIY mug designs. Hastily, she grabs her phone and resumes typing out her response.

 

 

_Hi, Juggie. That sounds like fun, what do you feel like having?_

 

 

She doesn't have to wait long for his answer; his message comes through almost as soon she sets her phone back down on the table with the intention of standing up to wash her bowl as she waited.

 

 

 _Anything non-Chinese, please_.

 

 

She chuckles lightly, deciding to wash her bowl before responding, not wanting to come off as too eager—even if she is. She washes it as quickly as she can, drying her hands on a towel before diving for her phone again.

 

 

_Haha, alright. Pick me up at around 1, we can walk to my favorite Mexican place from here._

 

 

She looks down at herself, still wearing pajamas, and then at the clock. She has around 2 hours to get ready. Her phone beeps again.

 

 

_Walking? The things I do for you, Elizabeth._

 

 

Her heart skips a beat in her chest. _Elizabeth_ . He had only ever called her that a handful of times, and she had always secretly liked the way it sounded rolling off his tongue. It had sounded almost flirty, which wasn’t a word she associated with Jughead at all. Sure, now that she thinks about it, many of their conversations had edged on flirting, but that hadn’t raised any flags in her head at the time. _Stupid_ , she thinks.  Before she can respond with a quirky use of his full name, another text comes in.

 

 

_See you then._

 

 

Betty quickly sends him her address, adding a smiley face at the end for good measure. She isn’t sure if he remembers where she lives, after all, he has never visited her here. But she knows  she had texted her address to him once or twice during their move, so the possibility that he has kept it exists.

 

She tidies the place up, finding certain calmness in cleaning _—_ walking through her daily routine of organizing a little faster than usual. She can’t hide the grin growing on her face every time her mind flutters back to the text exchange, until her cheeks begin to hurt and she has to shake her head at her own reflection by the window, telling herself to act normal.

 

Betty knows she’s going to need time to process what is going on, how quickly she has gone from thinking about her dark haired friend every once in a while when she feels lonely to having him as a full resident in her mind after just a week of knowing they are now sharing the same area code. She had not expected Jughead to reach out so soon, she had meant the _“text me anytime”_ as a half joke, knowing Jughead rarely initiated text conversations. He had been a huge fan of “ _k_ ” and just plainly not answering in general back in high school, so it definitely comes as a surprise that he has taken the plunge and texted her first. The thought alone makes her stomach flutter, and she goes back to smiling like an idiot again.

 

After showering, doing her hair in soft waves and putting on light makeup, Betty stands before her mirror inspecting her outfit. She had pulled on a pink summer dress on at first, but then she figured that it might look like she’s trying too hard _—_ and she is, who is she kidding. It also ran the risk of making for a very uncomfortable walk to _Pedro’s Tacos_ , even if it was only 6 blocks away. Ultimately, she had decided on a pair of dark wash skinny jeans.

 

She does _not_ blush at Veronica’s text when she sends her the requested outfit picture as her raven haired friend remarks how good her butt looks in that particular pair of jeans.

 

(Because she absolutely does _not_ think of that and Jughead possibly noticing too)

 

(She does _not_.)

 

She pairs it up with a blue and white striped off the shoulder shirt, which flows nicely over the hem of her jeans. She is deciding between her pair of white sneakers for a more casual look or some tan strappy sandals when her buzzer signals someone’s at the door. Her eyes turn to her bedside alarm clock, 12:45 flashing in green light. She furrows her eyebrows; Jughead had always been punctual but never the type to arrive with time to spare. Barefoot, she pads into the kitchen, pressing the buzzer on.

 

“Hello?”

“ _Betty, hi. Sorry I’m early, I miscalculated subway times and I didn’t want to stand here like a creep for 15 minutes, so I…_ ” comes the slightly fuzzy answer in the form of Jughead’s rambling. Betty laughs, interrupting him.

 

“Juggie, it’s okay. Come on up,” she says, hitting the door button to let him inside the building.

 

She giggles when he can’t hear her through the buzzer anymore, thinking of him pacing up and down the sidewalk until the clock hit the 1 p.m. mark. Smoothing her shirt and making sure the elastic is holding up in a straight line across her chest and shoulders, she walks to the door when she hears his light knocking.

 

Jughead stands in her doorway, hands deep in his pockets, his face slightly flushed in an adorable blush. He raises his eyes from where they had been fixed on his shoes, giving her a lopsided smile as a greeting.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey yourself.”

 

 _Smooth_ , Betty thinks, cringing internally at the overused phrase.

 

“Um, come on in. I was just finishing getting ready. You can sit on the couch if you want, there’s water if you’re thirsty or coffee but I wouldn’t really recommend drinking coffee before tacos because one time I--” she rambles while stepping aside and letting him walk through the door.  His eyes dart across her apartment, taking it in. She stops herself mid sentence, blushing madly at where her story had been going. He must’ve noticed too, because he gives her a funny look and laughs.

 

“I’ll be here, go,” he ushers her away with his hands, walking into her living room and plopping down on the couch. She stares at the back of his head for a second, taking in the scene before her. Jughead Jones, her high school crush sitting casually on her red couch, waiting for her to finish getting ready for their lunch outing _—_ not a date _._ _This is so odd_ , she thinks, _a good odd though._ She shakes her head, walking back to her room.

 

Mortification catches up with her as she walks into her dresser, realizing how she had been about to tell him about the one time she drank 3 cups of coffee before heading over to the _taquería_ , which resulted in a night spent in the comfort of her bathroom, the contents of her stomach long gone.

 

Finally deciding on the sandals, she picks up her purse and heads back into the living room. She finds Jughead standing by one of the crooks of her big T.V wooden stand, a mixture of different sized shelves attached to the wall in squared spaces where she keeps photographs, plants, and books, with the screen hanging the middle of everything.

 

He is staring at one picture in particular when she gets near him, focused hard enough that he doesn’t seem to hear her. The photograph stands in a nice white frame Veronica had gifted her, in between a picture of Cheryl, Veronica and her at their New Year’s party last year, and one of Polly’s twins. It had been taken by Ethel, their high school’s paper photographer during their last week of school. Betty stood leaning back on her desk, the last copy of the paper _—_ _their pape_ _r—_ clutched in her hands, a big proud smile on her face.  Jughead towered next to her, his arm casually slung across her shoulders, smiling down at her, the same smile she had noticed on Sabrina’s picture.  Her only comfort is that she knows where their relationship stands now, and even if it is childish to consider, his smile seems bigger in _this_ picture.

 

It is her favorite photograph in the apartment. As head of the yearbook committee, Ethel had shown her all the pictures she had taken in order to select the ones Betty thought should be included. As soon as that picture appeared on screen, Betty had asked Ethel if she could keep it _—_ her eyes doing their best to keep the tears at bay. The news of Jughead attending Emerson had been fairly recent at the time, and the picture felt like a punch in her stomach. When Ethel asked if she wanted it on the yearbook anyway, she had said no, telling the Muggs girl that Jughead probably didn’t want to be on the yearbook at all anyway. She had seemed to accept her excuse, knowing Jughead enough to believe it to be the truth.

 

In reality, Betty hadn’t wanted that picture on the yearbook because it had been a quiet and intimate moment in their office. And, if she were being honest, the look on Jughead’s face wasn’t something she wanted everyone to see. Veronica had teased her endlessly about it the first time she saw it, since she had kept it in her bedside drawer during the time they had shared the apartment. Betty had dreaded the questions if someone saw the picture standing proudly in their living room.

 

“That’s, um, during our last week of high school…” she starts to speak, noticing how he flinches in surprise at her voice. They had both stood silently next to each other for a minute now, him engrossed in the picture and her thinking back to the story behind it.

 

Jughead nods, turning to look at her with an expression she can’t really decipher, because it’s the first time she sees it on him, or so she thinks. She turns her own eyes back to the picture, even though she can still feel his eyes boring into the side of her face.

 

“Ethel took it, yeah. I have it too,” he says, his voice quiet. Her eyes snap back up to meet his, curiosity and something else making her heart lurch in her throat.

 

“Wait, you do? I thought I’d asked Ethel…” she trails off, realizing how weird it would sound to confess to having asked Ether to delete the picture from her folder.

 

“Yeah, I know,” he responds simply, his eyes flickering down to her lips so quickly that Betty does not have time to interpret the action.

 

Her mind is racing, the thought of him having the picture that means so much to her making her breath catch in her throat uncomfortably.

 

Does it mean that much to him too? Veronica’s teasing voice and Cheryl’s unusually fond smile flash in her mind. He clears his throat and points at the picture standing beside theirs.

 

“They’re so grown up. it’s crazy. Last time I saw them Dagwood spilled his guts all over me, literally.”

 

Betty’s heart continues to beat erratically in her chest, the implications of everything weighing her down, but she accepts the fact that they aren’t going to talk about it now. She chuckles lightly trying to sound normal, remembering a very panicked 17 year old Jughead covered in baby vomit, not quite sure what to do.

 

“They’re 7 now. They look so much like Jason, it’s kind of uncanny. But don’t tell Polly I said that.”

 

Jughead smirks knowingly, accepting that. Betty wonders idly if the same thought had crossed his mind.

 

He steps back, glancing between her and the door quickly.

 

“Ready to go? I’m starving,” He almost groans, clutching his stomach in an exaggerated manner. “Sabrina left early today; I had to have a pop tart for breakfast. Reminded me of the good old days at Sunnyside Trailer Park.”

 

Betty’s previous smile falters with the memories of how rough things had been for Jughead when they were teenagers, how he had been homeless after his dad got sent to jail. Her eyes search his, her expression giving her away. She bites her lip, unsure on how to respond. After all, it has been so long since they’d seen each other, that she doesn’t know how he handles the subject now.

 

Noticing her change of mood, he sends a reassuring grin her way.

 

“It’s okay Betts, I’m over it, it was a long time ago. There’s no need to get sad,” he nudges her shoulder lightly, something he used to do a lot to show her he was okay when she worried about him.  

 

It never did stop her from doing so.

 

 

 

They walk in silence to _Pedro’s_ , Betty leading him through the busy streets. The city is bustling with people running around on a rather sunny Saturday morning. Her mind is still reeling with the events of the day. She sneaks a sideways glance at Jughead, who seems to be lost in thought as well. She’s guiding him through the streets, but she’s fairly sure to anyone who pays attention it looks the other way around. He towers over her, a good amount of inches, and she leans instinctively into him every time someone walks closely past her. Searching her brain for something to say, she settles on the topic of Jellybean _—_ his younger sister. She knows the effect she has on him as his mood instantly lifts when he starts to tell her about Jellybean, or JB as she goes by now. He recounts stories of her in high school, how she runs the paper there, following into her older brother’s footsteps. He smiles bashfully when Betty teasingly reminds him that _they_ had run the paper together. As they are turning the street, _Pedro’s_ sign in sight, he tells her JB has been considering going to school at NYU.

 

“That’s awesome. That totally gives you an excuse to stay here when you’re done with your Masters,” she proclaims, almost as if to comfort herself. She hadn’t realized she had been wondering about that until now.

 

He looks at Betty, a funny expression on his face and she feels like he is about to remark on that very same thing, so she quickens her pace and announces they have arrived before he can say anything embarrassingly true.

 

After ordering at the front, they walk outside where some tables and chairs have been arranged across the little stray of sidewalk. Setting their food on the small table, Betty sits down across from him and sweeps her eyes over the food spread over the table.  All in all, they have ordered around 15 soft tacos filled with various delicious fillings. Betty’s a regular customer there so she had rattled off her order and Jughead’s, as per his request, all in one breath. If she had allowed herself a glance at Jughead’s direction, she might have seen the look of pure adoration on his face as words like _guacamole_ and _carnitas_ left her mouth.

 

Betty sits still waiting for Jughead to take the first bite to gauge his reaction, his stamp of approval. She laughs when she hears him make an appreciative sound at the first taste of his fish taco. He grins at her, his hand coming up to hide his food filled mouth. She raises her own taco, lifts it in a “cheers” manner, and takes a bite. Delicious spices and chicken meet her tongue, and she momentarily closes her eyes to savor the combination of flavors.

 

As she’s setting down the taco to take a sip out of her drink, her phone rings from within her purse. Her eyebrows lift slightly up to her hairline in surprise, not expecting anyone to call her on a Saturday. She wipes her hand on a napkin hastily as the phone gives another ring, muffled slightly by the items in her purse, and she reaches out to grab it. She glances over at the caller I.D, briefly muttering, “Kevin,” as a way of explanation to Jughead. He nods and takes another bite out of his taco, watching Betty intently as she accepts the call.

 

“I’M ENGAGED!” comes the screeching sound of Kevin’s excited voice, drowning out every other sound around them.  Betty jumps in her seat, and even Jughead from across the table visibly flinches, which lets her know he’s heard. They stare at each other for a second, smiles growing bigger by the second as they both take in the news.

   

“Oh my God, Kevin! Congratulations! I’m so excited for you guys!” Betty exclaims, her hands flying to cover her mouth as she smiles joyously. Kevin Keller, her best friend, _engaged_.

 

Kevin begins to ramble then, talking as fast as he can go (which is very very fast).  Words like “ring” and “proposal” and “wedding” filter through her phone as she leans back on her chair and closes her eyes, a slow smile forming on her lips. She is snapped out of it just as she is   _hmmm-ing_ and _ooh-ing_ in all the right places when Jughead lets out a loud laugh.

 

She opens one eye, squinting at him from across the table. He’s looking at his phone, a huge grin growing on his face. He notices her looking at him and quickly turns his phone around so she can see the cause of his amusement.

 

It’s a message from Fangs, which simply says: _I’m getting married, will u come?_

 

Betty giggles loudly at the juxtaposition between the two men, the sound mixing with Jughead’s own chuckles as he types out his own response to Fangs.

 

Kevin and Fangs had been such an odd combination at first, but soon enough it had become the most obvious thing to them. They love and care for each other deeply, even if they have had a couple rough patches along the way. Betty is ecstatic with the news: she can’t wait to see Kevin and hug him. She almost doesn’t realize Kevin has stopped talking and is now calling her name frantically.

 

“Sorry, what was that?” She asks with an apologetic tone in her voice. She had zoned out after hearing how Fangs took him to the nicest restaurant in Chicago, where Kevin lives, while he was visiting.

 

“I _said_ , are you on a date or something? I can hear a guy laughing,” he answers. Betty can hear a hint of annoyance at her for having interrupted him. However, this is _Kevin_ , and even while re-telling the story of how Fangs proposed to him, Betty can still detect the curious tone of Kevin’s voice when he’s trying to gather gossip.

 

“ _What_ , no. It’s just Jughead, not a date,” she squeaks out hastily. She ducks her head to her side to avoid Jughead’s eyes. His eyes snap up to meet hers though, and she gives him a tight lipped smile in response at having been caught.

“Wait, _Jughead Jones_ ? What is _he_ doing there? Oh my God, Betty. Did you... finally tell him?” She has Kevin’s full attention now, his delight evident. She grows flustered, almost knocking over her own chair as she sits up straighter.

 

“ _Jesus_ , Kevin, shut up. How about I call you later, and you can tell me everything, yeah?” She snaps, voice uncharacteristically harsh. Betty sighs an apology quickly.

 

“I love you, I can’t wait to hear everything!” She amends, trying not to upset her best friend on his happy day.

 

“Hmph, Betty Cooper. You are _not_ getting out of this as easy. I’ll call you at 9, sharp. You better answer or I’ll call Jughead myself and…”

 

“Okay, yeah, bye, love you too, bye,” she hurries out, clicking the call off before Kevin can finish his threat.

 

She turns her eyes to find Jughead staring at her, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

 

“That was Kevin,” she says, groaning internally at how stupid it is to say that when it has been clear all along. “Obviously. You knew that. Sorry.”

 

He laughs, letting his phone drop to his lap before speaking. “Yeah, that was sort of implied. Multiple times.”

 

“I’m so excited for him and Fangs!” exclaims Betty, hoping he won’t comment on the embarrassing flush on her face. She claps her hands together in excitement. “I always knew they’d work through it all, aww. Isn’t it adorable, Jug?”

 

“It _is_ kind of adorable, even my cold heart can admit to that,” he says with fondness. Betty rolls her eyes and gives him a scolding look, which he ignores as he carries on; Jughead’s heart is anything but cold.

 

“Fangs and Toni getting the fairytale Northside/Southside love story they’d always dream of,” he’s silent for a bit, his voice thoughtful. “Even if Sabrina wasn’t exactly Northside, but she’s from a nice part of Boston.”

 

“Did you ever dream of that?” She asks before she can stop herself. Something in his tone suggesting that he too, had shared that dream with them. It was that hint of something that pushed her to ask.

 

“Once,” he responds simply, his eyes meeting hers over the table. He drums his fingers on the table, tacos long forgotten.

 

Betty worries her bottom lip between her front teeth, unsure of what his expression was is trying to tell her. His eyes are cautious. But if there is one thing she is sure of is that she needs to know.

 

Before she can overthink it and risk losing her courage, she adds. “Was it with me?”

 

Her voice catches on the last word, her eyes finding his.

 

This time, Jughead’s eyes tell her everything she wants to know, and she knows the answer before he even begins to respond.

 

As luck would have it, his phone is the one that starts ringing this time.

 

He curses under his breath, eyes flickering down from hers to the phone on his lap. He taps angrily on his phone before raising it to his ear.

 

“Toni,” he says, on edge. “Is something wrong?”

 

The parallel to a few moments before is not lost on Betty when she hears the pink haired girl’s voice through the phone, loud and clear.

 

“Did you hear about Fangs and Kevin? _Oh my God_!”

 

Jughead sighs, rubbing the back of his neck while sending an apologetic look her way.

 

Betty lowers her eyes to stare at the half eaten taco in front of her, she takes it and drops it back on the tray after a beat. Her appetite is gone, just like their opportunity.

 

The mood is over _—_ she can feel it slipping away from them. Her unsaid words are still stuck on the tip of her tongue, ready to be said. _I dreamed of that, too_. She is dying to tell him, to let him know.

 

Their moment is gone, though, as soon as Toni’s voice fills the space around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I sort of can’t believe there’s people reading this! Hopefully you guys continue to enjoy this story, I’m having a lot of fun writing it.  
> Thank you for commenting and kudo’ing, it means a lot.


	4. four

It’s hard to go back to casual conversation after Toni finally hangs up, her voice considerably less loud as Jughead gives repeatedly tight responses to her excited exclamations about the wedding.

 

The almost confession still hangs in the air, unsaid but not forgotten by either party. Betty can’t shake off the look on Jughead’s eyes just mere minutes ago, when she had found the opportunity—and courage—to ask him if he had dreamt of that fairy tale future with her.

 

His eyes had held such sincerity and something that could only be described as rawness that it left no doubt in her mind that the answer had been _yes_.

 

Betty feels the awkwardness seep through her bones as he clicks the call off with a sigh, tucking it back into his pocket. If Jughead’s expression is anything to go by—he’s feeling the same way as her right now.

 

They sit silently for a minute, both unknowingly willing the other to bring the subject back— to give them their chance back.

 

In the end, it’s Jughead who breaks the silence.

 

“Toni’s pretty excited.”

 

After that, they both go back to eating their tacos, neither commenting on how cold and tasteless they now are.

  


The conversation that follows afterwards can only be described as polite. It seems like they have fallen on a round of 20 questions, both trying to fill the informational void of spending their college years with no communication between them.

 

Every time she opens her mouth to ask or answer a question a single word flashes in her mind: _coward!_

  
Betty knows the game they are playing is the perfect opportunity to steer the conversation back to _them_ , but something seems to stop her. Maybe she really is a coward, maybe she’s just scared of the answer not being the one she had been sure of, or maybe it’s Jughead’s willingness to keep asking questions and keep answering them that tells her he was most likely going through the same internal turmoil —that or he is genuinely interested in knowing about every single class she has ever taken.

 

The walk back to her apartment is spent in contemplative silence for the most part. Their hands brush against each other multiple times, filling Betty with hope that maybe he’ll grasp her fingers in his. They are on her street when she feels it brush against her for the fifth or sixth time. She is just considering taking the plunge and reaching her pinky finger to grasp his when he jerks his hand away.

 

“Sorry,” Jughead mutters, hiding both his hands inside his jacket pockets. Betty hopes her disappointment does not show as clearly as she feels it.

 

“Oh. It’s okay.” With no pockets to hide her own hands, she settles for nervously wringing them together behind her as they approach her building. The lights of the city twinkle in Jughead’s eyes as he turns sideways to look at her.

 

“Those were some really amazing tacos. Thanks for bringing me there,” he says, coming to a halt in front of her steps. A small smile plays on his lips.

 

Betty just stares at him, not trusting her voice to come up with a neutral thing to say back.

 

“Anyway,” he clears his throat. “It was great hanging out with you again Betts. Sabrina’s starting to get really annoying.”

 

Betty knows, rationally, that he means that last part as a joke. Some part of her though, the part that is looking for resolution and is frustrated at him for not saying anything snaps inside of her.

 

“Glad I can be of service when she’s not around.”

 

She averts her eyes to the side so that she doesn't have to look at him, even if she is secretly dying to know if that caused the impact her heart was looking for.

 

“Betty, that’s not what I meant at all _—”_ he starts, stepping closer to her with a furrowed brow.

 

“No it's okay, she’s your _best friend_ ,” she sneers at him, scornfully. She sees him flinch at her words, his face confused.

 

Betty isn’t really sure why she's picking this fight with him— she likes Sabrina. Yet what she's feeling in that instant can only be described as anger; all directed to the icy blonde girl and the dark haired boy standing in front of her.

 

“ _You’re_ my best friend, what are you even _—_ ”he tries again, sighing in exasperation.

 

This only fuels Betty more. She stomps up the first few steps of her building in frustration, and turns around to glare at him.

 

“No, I _used_ to be. But then we both just, like, stopped.”

 

“I thought you didn't want to talk to me half the time. Honestly Betty,” he removes his beanie in order to comb his fingers through his unruly hair in frustration.  “It was like everything was more important than talking to me. Oh, I have to bake,sorry. I have to study, sorry. I have to help Veronica choose what _freaking_ bra to wear today, sorry. You _always_ had something better to do! ”

 

She's taken aback by how quickly Jughead's temper has risen, but she can't back down now.

 

“What the hell? I never said that, Jughead. I always tried to talk to you as much as I could, with my busy schedule and work.”

 

“You _never_ answered my calls, Betty. It would go straight to voicemail.”

 

“I was _busy_ , like every college student. And you were awful at texting, you literally never answered.”

 

“Well excuse me. I was trying to keep my scholarship by actually studying my ass off.”

 

“Ah, I'm sure you had enough time to hang out with Sabrina though, right?”

 

“She was right _there_ , Betty. You were here in New York. Was I supposed to ignore everyone and not make friends? Was I not allowed to?”

 

“Why _did_ you even go to Boston? Our plan had always been going to NYU together, you were accepted here. We were going to live together, remember? That was our promise. You broke your promise,” her voice breaks as she utters the last syllable, her voice significantly losing the harshness.

 

It's right in that moment that it comes crashing at her in full force, like a dam breaking inside of her. The  reason why she had stopped trying with Jughead. In the back of her mind, she resents him for not going to NYU with her. And now she resents Sabrina for replacing her. The realization is sudden, but it only makes her angrier. She's not sure if it's directed at Jughead anymore, though.

 

“Because…” he struggles out, sighing as if internally accepting something. He grips the bridge of his nose with two fingers, resignation evident. Betty can't help but look at him when he pauses and she notices how tired he seems suddenly.

 

“Because I couldn't bear it anymore, Betty,”  his voice is softer now, a contrast to his previous seething tone.

 

She knows what's coming next. It's what she has been waiting for all day—all these years. But instead of feeling fluttery on the inside, she feels dread and embarrassment.  She feels stupid for glaring at him and taking her newly discovered frustrations out on him.

 

He seems to take her silence as a sign to go on. In reality, Betty is trying to will it all away, begging him not to. She doesn't want it to happen like _this_. Not when they both are feeling so much. Not when she can't decipher all these emotions coursing through her.

 

“Seeing you everyday and not _—_ not being able to show you how I felt _.”_

 

And just like that, everything inside her crashes, collapses, goes into arrest. Her nails start their familiar path inwards, sinking satisfactorily into her skin. She hadn't realized that all these time her breath had began to falter, coming in small pants. She tries taking a deep breath but it feels like she's choking.

 

 _It's all too much_ her mind chants at her. A warning. Her vision turns blurry. She knows rationally that she is being ridiculous, but that thought alone only triggers her more.

 

She tries again, inhaling a deep breath whilst attempting to ignore the slow trickles of blood on her hands.

 

Betty feels his eyes travel down to stare at where she is trying to wipe them discreetly. _Damn him for knowing me so well, for having witnessed this too many times_ , she thinks.

 

“ _Shit_ , Betty. Stop that, please.”

 

He is next to her in a beat, his right hand coming to unclench her fists. She backs up a step away from him, holding her hands to her chest now. She meets his eyes through her tears, falling freely on her cheeks now.

 

His hand hangs limply in between them, hurt all over his face. His mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

 

“I can't do this right now, Jughead. I can't believe you did that to us. What, for a stupid high school crush?”

 

It comes out like a whisper, but the inflexion in her tone is enough to shatter both of them.

 

She regrets saying that almost immediately, her instinct to say sorry overwhelming her. But she is feeling too much, and all she wants is for him to go away so she can sort it all by herself, piece by piece.

 

It's him stepping back now. He stares at her in disbelief as he mounts down the steps, his mouth slightly parted. Betty is still shocked at her own words _—_ at how self destructive she's capable of being. But she dug her own grave, and now there is no turning back. Not today.

 

“I'm going inside. Say hi to Sabrina for me,” she turns on her heel and enters her building, barely making it into her apartment before the heavy tears begin to pour down her face.

 

  
  


After knocking on Betty's apartment door sometime during Saturday night to no answer, Veronica had recurred to entering the apartment with her old key. She finds the blonde sprawled on her bed— tears no longer running but her face stained with the remains of her mascara.

 

Betty manages to get a few words out, barely enough to make sense in the raven haired girl's mind.  Veronica, bless her heart, does not go full Lodge mode and demands answers straight away.

 

Instead, she gently gets rid of her heels, grabs a thick blanket from the dresser and cuddles up to Betty's side in silence.

 

No words are exchanged even after multiple attempts on Betty's end to open her mouth and explain herself— explain the mess she has gotten into. What comes out instead resembles more of a strangled cry, which results in Veronica stroking her hair and telling her to take deep breaths in a soothing voice.

 

When Betty's eyes flutter open the next morning she feels numb all over. Slowly, things begin to trickle back into her foggy mind. One quick glance to her right and her timeline is confirmed: Jughead, tacos, fight and then _—_ Veronica sleeping soundly next to her, drooling over her pillowcase. The light in her room is still on, no one had gotten up in the middle of the night to turn it off. Betty's body feels stiff, her legs uncomfortably constricted in her tight jeans.

 

She groans quietly, rolling her body to stare at the ceiling. Flashbacks of the previous day play behind her eyelids, a dull ache making its way back to her head as she processes the events.

 

Veronica stirs next to her, wiping her mouth in her sleepy state before opening her eyes. She seems unfazed at waking up next to blonde hair instead of her usual red, smiling softly at Betty as she sits up and stretches her arms above her head. Betty mimics her actions, shimmying out of her jeans and sitting back on the edge of the bed.

 

“Morning, B,” says Veronica at last, breaking their silence. She inches close enough to bump their knees together. “Feeling better?”

 

“Honestly? I'm not sure. I'm still kind of processing what happened. God,” she mutters, horrified again at her own actions. “Thanks for staying with me last night, I was a mess.”

 

“Hey, don't. Want to talk about it?”

 

“I—I really don't even know where to start. Everything went to shit so quickly and I just...I screwed up.”

 

“Okay, Betty. I need you to take a deep breath and start from the beginning, okay?”

 

And so she does. She gets through the story successfully avoiding tears, a feat considering how upset she had been last night. Veronica keeps quiet for the most part, only humming when Betty pauses to take a breath.

 

“The thing is, I don't even know why I reacted like that. Wait, no,” she shakes her head,effectively shaking the bullshit off. “Scratch that. I _do_ know why. Which is why I freaked out so much. All this time I never realized how much I resent Jughead for choosing Boston. Like, maybe that's why we stopped talking. I was angry at him for not being here so I shut him out when it became too much.”

 

Betty springs up from her place on the bed, pacing around her room. Veronica's eyes follow her, back and forth, as she continues.

 

“I realized that last night, at the worst possible time. God Veronica— I snapped at him for mentioning _Sabrina_ ! The girl who I've welcomed as a friend and who has been so nice to me. I can't believe I was _so_ childish, being petty about a _label_ of all things. And then he goes and says that he _had_ to choose Boston because he couldn't bear being around me anymore,” she comes to a stop in front of Veronica, her voice quivering slightly. ”So I felt guilty, V. _So_ guilty. What if I had told him how I felt? I pushed him away, all the way to freaking Boston, because I couldn't just tell him I liked him. And then, to put the cherry on top of this whole mess, I start to feel anxious and all I can think of is saying a really hurtful thing to get him to leave. You should've seen his face. He looked so shocked at me, and why wouldn't he? We had been practically dancing around the subject all day, and I had been so ready to tell him how I felt that I'm sure he must've suspected it, you know?” she pauses, nibbling on her bottom lip. “And then I go and say he ruined us because of a stupid high school crush and I just…” She falls limply on the bed again, her hands coming up to hide her face as she huffs in annoyance at herself.

 

“Shh, calm down. Listen, I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear from me—maybe even the last thing you _expect_ to hear from me, since my general advice for pretty much every situation is to tell the guy to fuck off,” Veronica says, shifting so she can stare at Betty who is still shielding her face with her hands. Gently, she pries her hands away so she can really look at her. “But this is _Jughead_. And correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me like this was all just a big misunderstanding. He didn't do anything wrong, you didn't do anything wrong. Except, perhaps, for being complete idiots and not being able to communicate and tell each other how in love you are, but that's another subject for later,” she teases.

 

“Here's the thing. It won't get better until you two sit down and talk it out Betty. You have years of unresolved tension, both in your friendship and whatever else you two were playing at. I understand that seeing him here brought back a lot of feelings you thought you were over, maybe even feelings you didn't realize you had in you— like this whole anger at him for breaking your promise. But I don't hold the answers you're really looking for, no matter how many reassuring words I tell you.”

 

Betty sighs, hating how right Veronica is. How can she face Jughead though, after making such a fool of herself over the stupidest comment?

 

Veronica seems to have read the expression on her face because she proceeds to roll her eyes at Betty, in a _shut up_ way. “Like I said, this is _Jughead_. Don't fret about it. Give yourself a couple of days to get over your embarrassment, and then contact him. The sooner the better.”

 

Betty purses her lips, staring at the forgotten dried up blood on her palms. She stands up, walking to her ensuite bathroom to rinse her hands off and put some ointment on them. Veronica follows quietly behind her, grabbing her heels from the floor as she goes.

 

“I don't think he'll want to see me after last night. I mean, putting everything else I said aside—I did imply that I hadn't felt the same way after he confessed to it, V,” she says loudly over the sound of the water running. Veronica reaches over to open the cabinet that frames Betty's mirror. She grabs the ointment from the top shelf, working with familiarity as she holds the towel for Betty to dry her hands off.

 

“Betty, none of that is going to change the way he feels. And don't even start—I know you like speaking in past tense, but we both know it's very much present,” she takes Betty's left hand in hers, applying ointment gently before grabbing for the other. “If his heart is still yours after all these years, then a couple of days and an unfortunate misunderstanding won't make a difference.”

 

Betty feels a surge of pure affection for her best friend and she can't help but reach forward to hug her, ignoring the way her elbows crash uncomfortably against the tiles in her bathroom wall.

 

“I love you, Veronica. Thank you, really. You don't have to this every time I _—_ ”

 

“Nonsense, I don't mind at all,” Veronica butts in, hugging her back. “I love you too, Betty. And I hope everything between you and Jughead works out. I really do.”

 

Veronica leaves with the promise of checking up on her later, leaving Betty to take a shower and make a light breakfast for herself. She mulls over Veronica's words for the rest of the morning, unsure of what to do now. She wants to wait a couple of days before contacting Jughead again, partly because of Veronica's own advice regarding her embarrassment, but also because she figures it'd be best to give him time in case he feels angry at her.

 

She works on school stuff for the rest of the afternoon in an attempt to steer her thoughts away from Jughead as to prevent herself from blushing and cringing at the words she had thrown at him.

 

As she walks from her couch to her kitchen to grab a glass of water, she remembers that Archie is set to be returning to the city tonight. Checking the clock, she decides to send him a quick text asking if he needs a ride from the airport. She doesn't own a car, after all, she relies on public transportation for the most part. Veronica, however, does own a car that she rarely used. Veronica's lack of interest in the vehicle is such that Betty holds the keys to it in her bedside drawer. She figures she could use the ride to the airport as a distraction, while also catching up with one of her best friends.

 

As she pads back to the couch with a glass of water in hand, her phone beeps.

 

_hi betty, thanks but jug already offered. see you this week?_

 

 _Well, there goes that idea_ , she thinks as she settles back into her couch, coming to terms with spending the rest of her Sunday doing school work. Her eyes flicker quickly to the picture in front of her and she forcefully averts them to stare at her laptop screen instead.. She notices a message from Sabrina waiting in her google drive inbox, the platform they have been using for one of their papers. They have been working simultaneously on it for a couple of hours, each one of them completing their part in silence.

 

_Wanna meet up early tomorrow? Need to talk to you._

 

Assuming she means she needs to discuss something school related, she types back quickly.

 

 _Sure, see you_ _._

 

 

 

 

When she gets to school the next morning she is surprised to find Sabrina sitting by the steps of the building already waiting for her.

 

She rises to her feet as soon as she spots Betty's blonde ponytail walking towards her, meeting her halfway and motioning to a bench near them.

 

Betty furrows her eyebrows in confusion, she had been expecting to meet her in the classroom before class started. She sits down on the cool bench, turning expectantly towards Sabrina.

 

“Betty, I know you probably assumed this was about a project _—_ ” begins the other blonde, something akin to guilt displays on her features.

 

Realization hits Betty like a truck. _Of course_ Sabrina knows. Betty's face flushes in embarrassment as she hurries to apologize.

 

“Oh my God, Sabrina. I'm so sorry. you have to know I didn't _—”_

 

“Wait, wait. Don't say anything,” Sabrina holds her hands up, adamant on quieting Betty. “I don't actually know what happened _—_ Jughead wouldn't tell me anything. But I do know _something_ happened, and since i know he can be a little out of touch with his feelings i wanted to _—_ ”

 

Betty shakes her head, realizing where this is heading to. She decides it's better if Sabrina hears it coming from her mouth. “It was _me_ , Sab. I screwed up.”

 

“Wait a minute, what?”

 

And so Betty tells her everything. Even the most embarrassing part _—_ how she had used her as an excuse to pick up a fight with Jughead out of frustration.

 

Sabrina stares at her intently the whole time, a bemused expression growing on her face as Betty's retelling slows to an end.

 

“Wow, I gotta say Betty _—_ you two are some of the stupidest people I know, and I say that with love.”

 

Something in Betty's face must show her shock at hearing Sabrina call her out so openly, as Sabrina gives her a gentle smile accompanied by a small roll of her eyes before she continues to speak.

 

“Look, it's so obvious that you love each other. Like, a lot. And yes, okay. I get it _—_ you got interrupted a bunch of times and the mood was killed and that must've sucked but it was no reason to go off on him, and you know that,” she pauses to give her a pointed look which Betty responds to by shrinking slightly in her seat and nodding quietly.

 

“And the whole resentment thing _—_ I get it, really. I would be lying if I said  hearing about you for years didn't make me feel like I was just the temporary best friend, you know? So I guess in my mind Betty Cooper was nothing more than someone I'd never be _._ But I got over it, eventually. Jughead and I have been through a lot that to me he's so much more like a brother. But you need to know that I never replaced you, because it would've been impossible.”

 

Feeling on the verge of tears, Betty leans over the bench to hug Sabrina, praying all her gratitude seeps from her onto the other girl, whom she has a new spark of affection for.

 

“Thank you so much Sabrina, I'm so glad you're here, and that we're friends. I cannot thank you enough for being there for him all this time,” she leans back, her arms still resting slightly on Sabrina's shoulders as she nibbles on her bottom lip, musing. “I guess I'm just worried he won't want to talk to me, I was a bitch.”

 

Sabrina fixes her with a sympathetic look, squeezing her elbow softy.

 

“It's going to be okay, Betty. You have to remember that he's been in love with you for years, so I highly doubt that this will make him hate you,” in an attempt to lighten the mood, she adds with a cheeky grin. “Seriously, if you so much as flutter your eyelashes his way, he'll forgive you. It's kind of pathetic.”

 

“Sabrina!” Betty scolds her playfully, shaking her head fondly and rising to her feet after a quick look around them, noticing students sprinting to get to class on time. “I do plan on apologizing, big time. I just need to figure out how to get him to talk to me.”

 

Sabrina stands up too, gathering her things before sliding an arm around Betty's shoulder as they begin to make their way into the building.

 

“Come _on_ Coop. Jughead said you were smart.”

 

Sabrina chuckles at Betty's momentarily blank expression as they both step by the door being held open by another student. Betty mutters a quick thanks before turning her eyes back to Sabrina, who is now sporting a full on smirk.

 

“Betty dear, riddle me this. Which one of your newest friends happens to live with lover boy and seems to be really invested in his and your happiness? Hm? Ring a bell? I'll give you a hint _—_ I heard she's pretty hot.”

 

It takes Betty a second to realize where Sabrina is going with this, the implication of it making her laugh despite her concerns.

 

“Sabrina, no. Please don't do anything stupid,” Betty says, still smiling.

 

“Hey, take that back. Matchmaker Sab doesn't do stupid, excuse you. Come along, I'll let you take a peek at my master love plan if you step through this door right now, free of charge.”

 

They're at the door of their class now; Betty can see Professor Peterson in the background taking a marker out of his bag. Sabrina walks backwards into the room, her face lit up in a shit-eating grin, taunting her. Betty halts dramatically by the door, pretending to consider her options. Sabrina laughs, cheering silently when Betty steps into the class with a dramatic sigh.

 

“Okay, Cupid. Show me what you got.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> This was a difficult chapter for me to write- I had planned on keeping this story nice and fluffy but then I challenged myself to make it a little teeny bit angsty, hence what you guys just read. Promise the angst is short lived, so no worries.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who’s reading this story- it means the absolute world to me.
> 
> Drop a comment if you feel like it, and follow me on tumblr at indiebughead :)


	5. five

 

As it turned out, Sabrina didn't actually have a plan _—_ or a “master love plan” as she had been referring to it. Not a plausible one at least, considering how Betty had spent 2 hours of class adamantly shutting down various ideas that required at least one of the two protagonists in Sabrina's romantic schemes being naked, much to the other blonde's chagrin.

 

The actual plan had come in the unexpected form of Archie Andrews. After their brief text exchange on Sunday afternoon, Betty hadn't heard from her red haired best friend again, though she dared to admit her mind had been closely preoccupied with the dark haired beanie wearing boy they both used to call their best friend.

 

As she's walking out of class with Sabrina on a sunny Wednesday morning listening intently to the story of how Salem had disappeared for weeks once and how Sabrina had finally found him living with her old landlord, she feels her back pocket vibrate. Smiling politely at Sabrina, she shifts her books to her left arm so she's able to reach back and grab her phone with her other hand. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a nervous flutter go through her stomach at the prospect of said text being from Jughead, who has _—_ as expected _—_ been radio silent ever since Saturday.

 

 

_u free right now? im at the coffee shop, thought we could catch up_

 

 

She huffs quietly in disappointment, making Sabrina stop mid sentence and peer over her shoulder.

 

“Is it Jughead? What did he say?” she chirps excitedly, blowing a blonde wisp of hair from her face.

 

“No, it's Archie. He's at the coffee shop, says he wants to catch up,” Betty mutters as she composes an affirmative text.

 

“Ooh, I have a free afternoon,” says Sabrina, hooking her arm through Betty’s as they begin to move towards the coffee place. Betty chuckles at how easily Sabrina has invited herself. “Let's go! Haven't seen Golden Boy in months.”

 

 

Sabrina had mentioned in passing that she had met Archie virtually at first through the boys’ weekly _facetime date_ (Betty had snorted at that) later meeting him in the flesh during several of his visits to Boston. Betty had wondered if Archie has been keeping Sabrina out of his stories for her own benefit, as she had never heard of the other blonde before their first day of class at NYU. She has stored that piece of information away for further investigation, deciding on not dwelling on it now that she's getting along with Sabrina so well.

 

The walk to the shop is short, Betty’s usual silence replaced by the ruckus that was Sabrina. She laughs and speaks loudly, garnering attention from other passersby on the street. Betty doesn’t mind nor does she feel embarrassed—which would've been her usual response to such behavior— instead she welcomes it, feeling light and weightless as Sabrina drags her around, giggling.

 

They come to a halt in front of the café, both still chuckling at each other as they walk into the room.

 

Immediately, Betty’s eyes land on a red mop of hair sitting by the door. She tugs Sabrina along, grinning widely when Archie rises to his feet to meet them, his surprise at seeing Sabrina by Betty’s side only lasting for a second. He opens his arms, mimicking their giddy expression.

 

“Arch!” exclaims Betty at the same time as Sabrina cries out teasingly. “Blossom!”

 

Both girls step into Archie’s arms, who engulfs them in a bear hug. He grins down at them, raising his eyebrows at Sabrina’s nickname in amusement.

 

“ _Blossom_?”

 

“Yeah, like the Powerpuff Girls. I've been thinking about that joke for years, man. You’re Blossom with the red hair, Betty’s obviously Bubbles with the sweet girl character she has going on and Jughead… “

 

Archie chortles. “Jughead’s Buttercup, with his _fuck off_ personality. Nice one Sabrina,”  he raises his hand up for a high five, impressed.

 

Sabrina steps back, curtsying before sitting on a chair opposite to the one previously occupied by Archie.

 

Betty laughs at their antics, standing quickly on her tippy toes to plant a swift kiss on Archie’s cheek before sitting down too. Archie pulls another chair from a nearby table before joining them.

 

“Haven't seen either of you in a while, I missed you guys,“ he declares, his trademark smile lighting his face.

 

Sabrina cooes at Archie as Betty shifts slightly on her seat to wave at Amanda, silently beckoning her over. She turns back to fix her excited stare on Archie.

 

“How was L.A? Did you record anything new?” Amanda comes over, asking for their orders. Archie thanks her with a toothy grin before answering.

 

“I did! Man I’m _so_ psyched for you guys to hear the new songs I recorded, Val really liked them but she kinda has to, you know.”

 

Betty shoves him playfully on his shoulder, her expression fondly scolding. “Shut up Arch, she loves your songs because they’re really great. How is she by the way?“

 

“She’s great, busy with songwriting too. She has a couple of possible big jobs with a label, so keep your fingers crossed.”

 

“Wow, that’s really cool,” says Sabrina, muttering a thanks as Amanda sets her usual large black coffee in front of her.

 

“How’s Toni, Sab?” asks Archie, biting into his bagel as he glances expectantly as Sabrina, who's sipping on her cup.

 

 

“Too far away,” responds Sabrina, sorrowful. She continues in a lighter tone, a smile playing on her lips. “She’s been freelancing for a while, so I was thinking of asking her to come to the city for the weekend, but I don’t know if she’ll be able to get ahold of bus tickets at such short notice.”

 

Archie snorts with his mouth full of bagel.  “Sabrina, it’s Riverdale. She can get tickets a minute before the bus leaves.” This seems to encourage Sabrina, as she begins typing furiously on her phone _—_ presumably informing Toni of her plans.

 

“That reminds me,” Betty says after a beat, dragging her eyes away from Sabrina’s adorably excited face. “I was thinking of hosting a nice dinner party to welcome you back, Arch,” at Archie’s raised eyebrow Betty can hear him thinking _I’ve only been gone for a week,_ so she adds hastily, in a tone that borders on defensive. “ _And_ to welcome Jughead and Sabrina to the city too. It’d be nice if Sabrina met everyone else officially, you know.”

 

Archie’s eyes flicker to Sabrina’s _—_ who has raised her head at the mention of her name _—_ quickly before they settle on Betty once again, his expression suspicious even as he nods.

 

“That sounds like a great idea, Betts. Val and I will be there,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “Um, speaking of Jughead…”

 

“Ugh, no. Please don't tell me you know—”Betty starts, a blush forming on her cheeks.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, Juggie didn't want to tell me at all, I just ended invoking best friend rights, you know. He kinda had to tell me after that.”

 

Even in her embarrassed state, Betty finds that amusing enough to let out a breathy laugh. Leave it to Jughead to respect invisible rules.

 

Sabrina arches an eyebrow, visibly impressed. “Huh, never thought of that one before. Thanks for the idea, Archie.”

 

Archie rolls his eyes good-naturedly at Sabrina before turning back to Betty, his gaze softening slightly as he sets his bagel down and dusts his hands off on his jeans.

 

“Listen, Betts. I'm not going to say anything because being best friends with both of you kinda leaves me in a complicated position and I just want you to be happy...but I will say this,” he inhales deeply. “You two are the smartest people I know and _yet_ you managed to be the stupidest too.”

 

Betty blinks. She had been expecting a lecture from Archie, telling her off for hurting Jughead. She had not expected this. This is the third person so far that has called her out on her stupidity, and she can't help but feel slightly defensive.

  
As she opens her mouth to defend herself _—_ albeit feebly as she knows Archie's right _—_ Sabrina lets out a girlish squeal. “Toni says she can be here by Friday night!”

 

She doesn't seem to notice they have been discussing something, because she reaches out to grab Betty’s arm in excitement, her eyes wide. “Oh my God, Betty! This is _it_ , this is the perfect plan!”

 

“Plan?” echoes Archie, shifting his eyes between both blondes, trying to follow along.

 

Betty sighs, taking a quick sip of coffee before mumbling.

 

“Sabrina’s trying to help me get to Jughead so I can apologize. So far her plans have consisted of me waiting naked in every possible surface on their apartment _—_ so you can imagine my reluctance.”

 

“Shame, that would actually work,” muses Archie, grinning cheekily at her. She bumps his shoulder again, shaking her head. “Okay geez, no nakedness. Have you thought of just texting him?”

 

“ _Just texting him_ ?” bristles Sabrina, her eyes narrowing playfully at the redhead from across the table. ”Excuse me Archibald, politely _fuck off_ my scheme. Where's the fun in a text? A dinner, however, is the recipe for _—_ ”

 

Betty and Archie interrupt her in unison, both wearing masks of skepticism. “Disaster.”

 

“Oh my God, live a little. You had to say _romance._ Seriously, I don't know why I bother with you two _—_ you're useless. Betty dearest, why did you ask me for help if you're not willing to go through with my plans?” Sabrina whines, stomping her foot under the table.

 

“Sabrina, I _didn't_ ask for your help,” Betty points out.

 

“Fine, whatever, be that way. I won't help you then,” she crosses her arms, sticking her tongue out stubbornly.

 

Archie snickers. “Oh, come on Sabrina. You're just dying to. This dinner idea is not terrible, actually. We'll all be there, so Juggie won't be able to ignore Betty all night—not that he should anyway, he's not mad at you per se, just a little hurt,” he adds.

 

“Except he can, it's Jughead we're talking about here. He could just plainly not show up. I mean, why would he show up at my apartment, at my request?” Betty questions, deflated.

 

“Hmm, easy fix,” says Sabrina, her resolve to not help long gone as a slow smile begins to form on her lips.  “Let's just do it at our place, that way he has no escape. I'll tell him I planned a housewarming party or something, and that you offered to cook.”

 

Betty mulls the idea in her head, trying to find the flaw and coming up with nothing after a few seconds. “Hm, that actually sounds like it could work. I feel a little bad about cornering him in his own home though.”

 

Sabrina waves her hand dismissively in her direction. “Nonsense, like he won't enjoy it. We just have to make sure you guys get enough alone time to talk.”

 

Archie pipes in, his face lit up with an idea. “I'll tell everyone to leave at an appropriate time, and Betty can linger with the excuse of cleaning up or something.”

 

“ _And_ Toni and I will leave with the excuse of getting _alone_ time, if you know what I mean, “ Sabrina adds with a smirk, winking for good measure. “Jughead will be too grossed out to question it.”

 

“So we're really doing this, huh?” breathes out Archie, crossing his arms across his chest, a glint of mirth on his brown eyes.

 

“I guess we are _—_ thank you guys,” Betty says, affectionately.  “This is sweet of you. In a kind of twisted way, though.”

 

“I mean, we _do_ get some of your delicious home cooked food for free out of it,” Archie quips, earning a jab at his ribs. He amends quickly. “ _And_ we get to help our friends get it on… _the relationship_ , Betty,” he says, catching Betty's hand before she can hit him playfully again. He flinches even as he guffaws. “I meant _the relationship_. Stop it!”

 

Betty and Sabrina join him with giggles of their own, slowly subsiding until they sit in silence. After a minute, Betty groans; her arm coming up to cover her face.

 

“Oh man, who's going to tell Veronica? She'll never let me hear the end of it--scheming to get Jughead to talk to me,” she grimaces, her eyes widening further. “And Cheryl, she's going to _love_ this.”

 

“Betty, they don't have to know all the details. We'll tell them just the necessary _—_ ” Archie stops at Betty's incredulous chuckle, her head tilted as if to say _it's Veronica and Cheryl you're talking about_. “Okay yeah, I'll talk to them.”

 

Sabrina yawns, not bothering to cover her mouth. “Geez, who knew playing Cupid was so tiring?” She raises her now empty cup of coffee into the air, catching Amanda's attention. “I'm going to need some more coffee here.”

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> This chapter is pretty short; it's kind of part 1 of next chapter-I have 3 papers due tomorrow and I can't write anymore, so I thought (since I don't know when I will be able to finish off the entire thing), why not post a little bit to tease what's coming up soon?  
> Thanks for all the support, it means the world to me when you comment ♡  
> Find me at indiebughead over at tumblr


	6. six

Betty finds herself cooking gnocchi alla sorrentina for 8 early on Saturday morning, running through the motions of peeling and then smashing boiled potatoes, carefully adding egg yolks and flour into the mix. It takes some time to complete every step of the familiar recipe passed on to her by Grandma Cooper, but almost like with every other house task or chore, Betty finds great comfort in the methodical nature of it all.

 

She loves knowing exactly what to do with her hands when rolling the potato dough and what to add to the sauce to make it pop, she knows exactly what temperature she needs on the pot to get the perfect gnocchi _—_ she loves knowing what to expect, which is why this whole dinner party plan has been throwing her off for days.

 

She has tried to keep her mind off it really, but having every single one of her friends attending is not helping her case _—_ she feels awful about being thankful for Kevin being far away in Chicago. As promised, Archie had talked to Cheryl and Veronica. He did _not_ , however, keep his promise on not sharing all the details, resulting in him walking into her apartment on Thursday night wearing a guilty expression on his face as Cheryl and Veronica trailed behind him, mirthful smiles taunting her playfully as Betty groaned and plopped face down on her couch. She had tried to tune out their incessant questioning and teasing, but had eventually accepted defeat after realizing they were not going anywhere since they lived right across the hall.

 

Sabrina had gone full planner mode on Betty, meeting her by the steps of their building on Thursday morning and immediately suggesting dinner options and offering to help her with the grocery list.  By Friday, she came up with silly sketches of sitting arrangements during class that ended up with both of them giggling at one particularly bad placed stick limb on Archie, much to their professor's disapproval. She even went as far as creating a group chat to discuss “details” and give them “updates on Jughead”.

 

Betty had repeatedly stated that she thought the whole thing was unnecessary _—_ especially since it mostly consisted of Sabrina texting them blurry pictures of Jughead eating breakfast, napping or working on his laptop accompanied by ridiculous captions and drawings on his face.

 

He was, according to Sabrina, as aware of the housewarming party at their apartment as he could be. Sabrina had told him it had been her own idea; a way of getting all his friends together in order for her to meet them properly. He had been suspicious at first, especially after Sabrina made a completely _not_ nonchalant comment about Betty doing the cooking. He had given up on excuses to skip the dinner after Sabrina came up with solutions for each one, deciding instead on brooding silently until Saturday came.

 

 

 

By 6, Betty has changed outfits 6 times, done her hair in multiple different styles, and in between every one of those changes she has gone to the kitchen to check on the food. She has changed the plastic wrapping on the Pyrex containing the gnocchi to tin foil wrapping before deciding on plastic again, and has moved the sauce from container to container until she found one that had absolutely no potential of leaking.

There’s a buzz that indicates someone’s downstairs at the front of the building. She hurries around the apartment after pressing the door open, Val’s voice flowing through the intercom indicating she’s coming upstairs to help with the food. Betty slips into her shoes and grabs her purse as she checks her reflection one last time before opening the door. Cheryl and Veronica are just stepping out of their apartment, each of them holding a bottle of wine and dressed impeccably in tight dark dresses and high heels. Betty darts her eyes downwards quickly to take in her last minute outfit decision. She’d settled on a navy blue wrap dress littered with tiny white flowers that stopped mid-calf and had an opening on the front, and a pair of nude short heels. She bites her lip as she contemplates running back to her closet to get a pair of higher heels instead.

 

“B, you look amazing, that dress does something to your boobs, don’t you think, Cher?” exclaims Veronica from across the hall as Betty snaps her eyes back to meet her best friend’s.

 

 Cheryl is locking the door now, humming noncommittally in response before turning around and giving Betty a head to toe look.

 

“It’ll do,” she says, half shrugging. Veronica pokes her ribs with a perfectly manicured nail, making Cheryl’s eyes roll. “You look scrumptious, I’m sure our dear FP3 will want to rip it off you as soon as he sees you. Better?”

 

 “Who’s ripping what off you now?” asks Val as she nears the top of the stairs, looking as impeccable as the two other girls in her significantly more eclectic combination of colors and textures. 

 

Betty flushes, glaring at Cheryl before stepping forward to hug Val in greeting.

 

“Nothing, Cheryl is being ridiculous,” she says, watching Cheryl and Veronica greet her as well.

 

“Wow you guys all look incredible,” Val says as she steps back and whistles playfully. She winks at Betty before making her way over to where the blonde is standing near her open door. “And by the way, _definitely_ agree with Cher.”

 

Cheryl and Veronica share smirks with Valerie as Betty clears her throat, flustered. “Okay you guys, I appreciate this whole ego boosting you’re doing, but Archie is probably getting impatient downstairs so let’s move, alright? You look gorgeous too, by the way,” she adds.

 

“Betty, stop blushing. Isn’t that the whole purpose of this little gathering of yours?” Veronica chastises, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

 

“What? No, it’s not. Sabrina is hosting a housewarming dinner, that’s it. Come on Val, the food’s in the kitchen,” she says, motioning vaguely with her hand for her to come inside.

 

“Oh, the salad,” she hears Veronica say behind her. “I knew we were forgetting something important.”

 

 

 

Once they settle into Archie’s truck, Betty begins to feel nervous again. She nods and laughs at what Archie is telling her, a story about a record label and a song, but she’s not listening. Instead, she’s torturing herself once more with all the possible ways tonight could go wrong. She’d been doing this for days, much to Sabrina’s annoyance. She’d made the mistake of admitting what was going through her mind yesterday as they were working on a paper at the library, not expecting Sabrina to call her out on her masochism and tell her to stop worrying over nothing, before putting her earphones back on with a huff.

 

It was one of the things she was starting to appreciate about her growing friendship with Sabrina. She didn’t indulge her with sweet placating words, not the way Archie and Veronica sometimes did.

 

 

 Instead, she was quick to point out the flaws in her reasoning without beating around the bush as much. Betty remembers wishing that Sabrina would see through her on their first day of classes. She wished she’d see through the act she knows she puts up as a habit whenever she meets new people, the indescribable need to be seen as the perfect all American girl overwhelming her in such a way that she can’t even tell she’s doing it until later. The fact that Sabrina had managed to break down that façade in so little time, without even acknowledging it made Betty so thankful to have her.

 

 

As they near the address given to them by Sabrina, Betty starts to fidget. She checks her phone for new messages, deciding to let Sabrina know they’re almost there after she finds none. Needing to do something with her hands, she types a really unnecessary long text just detailing their ETA details. Sabrina responds almost immediately with a single question mark as a response. Betty waits for her to add something, something that will take her mind off of all the worst case scenarios playing in her head. After a minute that feels like twenty, three little dots appear on her screen.

 

 _Running a little late with Toni, got caught up. Jug_ ’ _s home, good luck ;)_

 

Betty groans loudly, dropping her head back on the headrest of her seat. All eyes in the car turn to stare at her as the conversation they’re having comes to a halt, even Archie’s sparkling brown pair squint at her through the rearview mirror.

 

“Sabrina’s running late with Toni, probably on purpose,” she huffs out, her eyes screwing shut as she continues. “She says _Jughead’s_ home.”

 

She waits for her friends to wail their own responses, but when no one says anything and all she can hear is the start of someone giggling, she opens her eyes to find all of them still staring at her, amusement and disbelief showing on their faces. She wonders briefly if Archie hasn’t taken his eyes off her all this time, and worries about the safety of the car in the busy New York traffic.

 

“What?”

 

“Come _on_ Elizabeth, you’re being such a child,” Cheryl drones.

 

“What?”

 

“Betty, you organized this whole thing with Sabrina in order to see Jughead. Why the hell are you freaking out about him being home? That was the idea!” Archie exclaims from the front seat, turning on a corner that Betty knows leads to their destination.

 

“I’m _not_ freaking out, I’m just _—_ _“s_ he breathes out, her heart beating faster as Archie slows down as they near the building.

 

“Freaking out?” Valerie supplies, turning slightly sideways from the passenger seat to look at Betty. The blonde girl takes a deep breath and nods quietly. “You need to relax and remember who this is, Betty. Everyone in this car knows that what happened was a misunderstanding, including you. And he probably knows it, too. So don’t beat yourself up tonight, okay? Just try to talk to him.”

 

Archie’s pulling into the underground parking space that Sabrina said they could use by now, turning the engine off and clicking his seatbelt off. Valerie gives her one last reassuring smile before doing the same. Veronica squeezes her knee gently, muttering “you got this, girl” before opening the door and sliding out of the car.

 

 Cheryl takes a look at her before they all start to pile into the elevator, Archie and Val carrying most of the food and plates. She lingers back, letting Veronica fall into step with the other couple as she gently grabs Betty _’_ s hand in her own and squeezes before dropping it. Betty feels overwhelmed and touched at how supportive her friends are being, so she takes a deep breath and clears her throat, walking with a little more confidence towards the elevator doors being held open by Archie.

 

Her knees wobble slightly when they make it to the 8th floor, so she puts a little more force into every step to stop her from shaking. She taps her watch and her necklace once, remembering the anchor exercises her therapist suggested.  The _right nows_ , not _the what-ifs,_ she tells herself.  

 

She trails slightly behind Cheryl and Veronica as Archie knocks on Jughead’s and Sabrina’s apartment door—number 806— with the hand that’s not holding Valerie’s.

 

 

 

 

It takes half a minute for Jughead to swing the door open, and for Betty’s breath to catch in her throat at the sight of him. Cheryl had been right, because right now she feels like a 12 year old girl staring at her crush. Even if she can’t see him fully through the spaces between her friends’ heads, she can tell he’s wearing a dark blue shirt with the first couple of button undone, and it’s enough to make her shake for entire different reasons now.

 

“Juggie,” she hears Archie greet him, slapping his back as they hug briefly. Jughead’s eyes find hers quickly, averting his eyes as soon as they do.

 

“Arch, good to see you man,” he says to his best friend, a smile on his face. “Hey Val, come on in. It’s great seeing you.”

 

To Betty’s complete and utter shock, Jughead allows Val to hug him too, even holding her for a few seconds as she greets him back. Both Archie and Val step through the door as Jughead stands to the side to let them in. He towers over Cheryl and Veronica as they step closer to him, even if they’re both wearing 4 inch heels.

 

 _“_ Cheryl, Ronnie. I believe I haven’t had the _absolute pleasure_ of seeing either you in around…3 or 4 years, maybe?” his tone drips with sarcasm, but the smile he gives both girls contradicts him.

 

“Well, believe it or not, we actually missed you. I’m glad you’re here,” Veronica pipes back before she tentatively places a hand on his shoulder, silently asking if she’s allowed to hug him. Jughead’s eyes widen slightly, but he steps away from the door and crouches down a little to hug Veronica back.

 

“It’s good to be here, Ronnie. Don’t tell anyone I said this, _especially_ not Archie, but I missed you too,” he says.

 

 _“_ Yes, yes. We’re all so happy to be here, the Scooby Gang is back at it, yada yada. Is this place even fumigated?” Cheryl asks, sniffing loudly and looking curiously at the inside of the apartment.

 

 _“_ I’m afraid so Cheryl, so you’re going to have to stay and entertain us with your _wonderful_ company,” he quips back, a grin on his face as Cheryl rolls her eyes. He clears his throat before continuing. “By the way, I heard about your Nana last time I was in Riverdale. I’m sorry, she was a great lady.”

 

Cheryl’s eyes soften at this, and she pats his arm gently before pressing a kiss to his cheek as she slips past him with Veronica in tow, muttering a quiet “thank you”. Jughead stares at their retreating backs in shock before slowly making his way back to Betty, who is now standing in front of him.

 

“Hey,” she says, her voice coming out as a whisper.

 

“Hi Betty,” he replies, his hands diving into the front pockets of his black jeans.

 

Betty stares at him, trying to decipher how he’s feeling so she can begin to apologize. She finds nothing but neutrality in there, his face giving away nothing as he stares right back.

 

“Listen, I—“she starts, her left hand coming up to brush hair back away from her face, suddenly wishing she'd worn her hair up because suddenly her neck feels like it’s on fire.

 

“We’re here, we’re here, sorry for the delay,” comes Sabrina’s panting voice from behind her as the elevator doors slide open to reveal a very flustered Sabrina carrying a large white box in one hand and holding Toni Topaz’s hand in the other.

 

Sabrina speed walks all the way to the apartment; tugging Toni’s bemused face behind her.

 

“This _stupid_ cheesecake place that someone from the library recommended was closed so we had to walk to another one and there was this _huge_ line—who knew so many people wanted to have a cheesecake on a Saturday night, seriously? New York is _crazy_ , man,” she finishes explaining, blowing sweaty hair from her face as she takes in the scene in front of her. She widens her eyes at Betty, to which Betty responds with a half shrug and a shake of her head. Honestly, it was a good thing Sabrina showed up; she hadn’t been sure what she was going to say next to Jughead.

 

“You should’ve thought about that before, not today Sab,” Jughead says from his place at the door, his arms crossed as he stares in amusement at his roommate. “Our guests are waiting.”

 

“ _God_ , who are you, Aunt Zelda? Give me a break,” she snaps back, even as a smile plays on her face. She moves closer to Jughead as they continue to bicker playfully, pushing the box into his hands.

 

Betty snaps her eyes away from them, realizing she hasn’t acknowledged Toni’s presence yet.

 

“Toni, it’s so great to see you!” she says, as she inches closer to the pink haired girl and silently gauges her potential reaction to a hug.

 

 They hadn’t been close friends back in high school, but they hung out in the same group most of the time and they both secretly loved spending time together working at the Blue and Gold and practicing for the Vixens, always finding comfort in the eye rolls they’d share at Jughead’s melodramatic rants or Cheryl’s impossible demands.

 

Toni gives her an eye roll now, before sighing and opening her arms playfully. “Come on Princess, one hug won’t hurt.”

 

Betty laughs at the nickname that had once bothered her before she realized it was meant affectionately and not in disgust, as she had previously thought when tensions between the Northside and the Southside had been high.

 

 Toni’s wearing big platform shoes, but she’s still inches below Betty’s chin. They wrap their arms around each other tightly for a moment, both girls grinning widely.

 

“Wait a second, _Princess_? I thought that was me!”

 

“Only in the bedroom,” Toni responds, winking at Betty before moving forward to grasp Sabrina’s hand and peck her lips.

 

“ _Gross_ , _ew_ ,” whines Jughead, covering his face. “Boundaries, for the millionth time.”

 

“Get over it, loser,” Toni ruffles his beanie before stepping into the apartment.

 

Betty’s smile is still in place, her heart doing the same swoon-y flutter thing she feels whenever she’s in the presence of Cheryl and Veronica, or Archie and Valerie. It’s not jealousy; quite the contrary, it’s an overwhelming feeling of joy at seeing her friends finding happiness every day in each other.

 

She doesn’t realize Jughead is staring at her until he clears his throat, motioning with his arm that she should also step through the door. She slides through clumsily, bumping his shoulder with hers as she does.

 

 

 

The apartment is surprisingly bigger than she expected. Sabrina had ranted so much about how small it was compared to their old place in Boston that Betty had automatically assumed their new place was a shoebox. Instead, she’s met with an open concept kitchen/living room. The building isn’t very modern, but the inside seems to have undergone some revamping process. The walls are all painted white, the floor a wooden brown. The kitchen is by far what catches her attention the most: it’s completely white, except for the pair of red stools standing by the counter. There’s a wooden table between the kitchen and the couch, which is where Archie and Valerie are sitting with Toni, a glass of wine on the two girls’ hands, a glass of what looks like soda in front of the ginger haired boy.

 

In the kitchen, Veronica is helping Sabrina heat up dinner, giggling at something the icy blonde girl is saying. Cheryl is walking around the apartment holding a black cat in her arms, who Betty assumes is Salem. She’s scratching his fur as she gently speaks to him, pointing at various things in the apartment as Salem stares blankly back at her.

 

She takes notice of the grey couch in the living room as she walks into the kitchen, sitting across a TV with a couple of books lying around. There’s not much furniture, in fact, that’s all there is. The chairs spread around the table are all mismatched, varying in color and texture. It makes Betty smile, the combination between Jughead’s monochromatic style and Sabrina’s slightly more upbeat take on their décor.

 

Jughead has changed paths from behind her and is now pulling a chair to sit by Toni, shaking his head as she offers him a glass of wine. Instead, Archie rises to his feet in order to get him a soda from the fridge.

 

Archie makes his way into the kitchen, catching Betty’s eye as he _not_ so subtly motions for her to come closer. Dropping the dressing she was about to squirt on the salad bowl, she squints her eyebrows at him as she joins him by the fridge.

 

“So, everyone’s in on this. We’re all heading out straight after dessert, got it?”

 

“Um, sure. How do I get home though?”  she asks, copying his low tone of voice.

 

“Are you planning on going home?” Archie retorts back, a teasing glint in his brown eyes.

 

At Betty’s raised eyebrows, Archie chuckles and shakes his head.

 

“ _Talking_ , right. Well, we’ll figure it out when the time comes, don’t worry about it,” he whispers as he grabs a soda from the fridge, looking tremendously smug at his secretive scheme. He walks away with a wink before Betty can respond. _Great, now I have to ask the guy who won’t talk to me for a ride, fantastic._

 

 

 

 

Dinner goes by smoothly, much more than anyone involved would have expected. Everyone compliments her cooking _—_ even Jughead can’t seem to help the “this is delicious, Betty” that comes out of his mouth as he takes the first bite.

 

Betty feels extremely self-satisfied at this, but it dies down a little when she slowly realizes that’s all he’s going to say to her for the rest of the dinner.

 

Conversation flows easily though, and Jughead doesn’t seem to mind participating. Betty, as luck would have it, ends up sitting across him —she’s not sure if calling her friends luck is the right way to go, since they had clearly left the space empty intentionally, but she decides not to dwell on it. And so she spends almost the entire time staring at him, trying to catch his eye in between laughter and jokes and stories of them back in high school —which Sabrina is more  than overjoyed to hear about. Unfortunately, he’s very good at avoiding her eyes, his own moving quickly to settle on the person doing the talking. She tries to see if he looks at her when she’s the one talking, but he seems to take those instances to stuff his face with his second and third helping of gnocchi.

 

Eventually, she gives up. She stops actively participating in the conversation, instead she finds comfort in nudging her food around her plate with her fork, only humming and laughing when everyone else does. She knows she has no right to feel hurt; after all, he’s only avoiding her because she hurt him, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t believed Archie when he said Jughead wouldn’t avoid her with all of them being there. Instead, it seems, he’s relying on each and every one of them—even Cheryl—in order to do just that.

 

When dessert comes, Sabrina offers to cut the cheesecake and requests Jughead’s help in the kitchen as she stands up from her seat, quickly gesturing for Toni to sit back down when she automatically rises too. Jughead, caught mid-laughter at something Archie is saying, gets up to his feet with a confused expression on his face.

 

“Come on, Jughead. We’re the _hosts_ , remember?”

 

When they come back, cheesecake slices are passed around the table. Betty stares at hers, deeming it too big for her lack of appetite at the moment, but not finding a polite way to ask for a smaller piece.

 

From across, Jughead clears his throat, making her eyes snap up from the offending dessert. He’s holding out a small knife and his own plate of cheesecake, silently telling her to cut hers and give him the rest.

 

She smiles at him, and is surprised when he doesn’t look away and instead returns the gesture.

 

“Thanks, Juggie,” she says quietly as she hands him back the plate.

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you guys:)  
> First off, I’d like to thank everyone for being so kind and leaving comments and kudos on previous chapters- as I’ve said before, this means the entire world to me.
> 
> Second, I’m done with my quarter (yay!) so I have a lot of free time to write and finish this story soon, so I’m pretty excited.
> 
> Lastly, this chapter’s outline began with one thing happening and ended up with a whole other thing happening, so I decided to cut the 8k words I have written so it makes more sense this way, while I figure out the change of plans that happened during a burst of creativity (trust me, you’ll love it) (i hope).
> 
> Meanwhile, I hope you guys enjoyed this fun little party-there’s so much more to come, especially when these two get left alone to sort it out.
> 
> Thank you so much again, find me at indiebughead over at tumblr:)


	7. seven

 

 

Unsurprisingly, once everyone’s done with dessert, excuses start coming out of their mouths. Archie suddenly remembers there’s _something_ _really important_ he has to do _like right now_ _—_ the irony of him being the one to suggest coming up with excuses to leave and not actually having one is not lost on Betty, as she rolls her eyes at Archie from down the table.

 

Val seems to notice this too, shaking her head affectionately at her boyfriend before quickly adding that they forgot to record a demo they were meant to send before tomorrow, so they have to hurry home. It’s convincing enough to not be questioned by Jughead, who only narrows his eyes at Archie for a couple of seconds, his face slowly showing years of fondness for the guy who can’t remember a thing before shrugging and returning his undivided attention to his cheesecake.

 

Betty stifles a sigh of relief- grateful that Jughead doesn’t seem to catch on the evident mood going around as the others begin to stand as well. She figures their excuses only need to sound convincing to his ears, since everyone else knows exactly _what_ ’s going on. They all seem to be gauging only Jughead’s reactions as they move around the apartment collecting coats and bags, and Betty thinks this whole situation would be hilarious if she wasn’t feeling so nervous at the prospect of being completely alone with him.

 

His kind eyes and easy smile as she gave him back his plate with her half of the dessert had given her some reassurance that maybe he wasn’t as uncomfortable or angry at her as she thought he was _—_ though she also highly suspected Sabrina had had something to do with his sudden change in behavior.

 

Cheryl and Veronica simply shrug on their coats as they tell everyone _—_ _Jughead_ _—_ they need to be up early for a charity event being held by the Lodges somewhere in Long Island. It’s such a likely scenario in their lives that Betty’s convinced Jughead wouldn’t even blink his eyes at them about it.

 

She’s at the kitchen just after hugging everyone goodbye, scraping the remains of cheese and tomato sauce from the bottom of the pan when she hears Sabrina’s hushed voice coming from the hallway that she presumes leads to their bedrooms. Toni is sitting in one of the kitchen stools, wiping every plate off with a napkin to get rid of the excess sauce and cheese before they go into the dishwasher. Their eyes meet across the kitchen island, both halting their movements as they listen in on the conversation.

 

“Sabrina, _seriously_?”

 

“What, you expected Toni to come all the way from Riverdale so we could hold hands or paint each other’s nails all night?”

 

“I—believe it or not, I don’t actually _waste_ my time thinking about what you two get up to, so—“

 

“ You’ll be fine,” she interrupts him. “Just remember to leave the door open for Salem in case he needs to —“

 

“For the millionth time Sabrina, Salem _doesn’t_ like cuddling with me, okay?”

 

Betty chuckles lightly and is met with Toni’s own quiet snicker as they both recognize the offended tone in Jughead’s voice.

 

“That’s because you give off a _terrible_ vibe, honestly!” At the start of another protest, she shushes him. “Stop, what’s this really about?”

 

Betty can almost imagine Sabrina crossing her arms as she stares Jughead down, her eyebrows raised.

 

Jughead scoffs. “What is _that_ supposed to mean? This is about you — “

 

“Cut the crap, Jughead Jones.” Sabrina’s voice gets louder with each word, so both girls return to their tasks in the kitchen, pretending to have been doing so all along. She sees both silhouettes approaching the kitchen from the corner of her eye, Sabrina holding a small backpack on her back.

 

“Betty, Jughead will give you a ride home, alright?”

 

She snaps her eyes away from where they were focused on a slightly charred corner of the pan. She meets Sabrina’s wink before moving to look at Jughead, who is standing with his mouth slightly parted as he stares back at Sabrina’s back.

 

As grateful as she is that Sabrina broached the subject of how she’s getting home before she had to, she feels uncomfortable with the way Jughead stays silent. She clears her throat, returning her gaze to the spot she was just about to attack with the sponge.

 

“Um, that’s alright, thanks. I’ll just go and grab the subway as soon as I’m done with—“

 

“I’ll drive you,” interrupts Jughead, their eyes connecting as Betty once again drops the sponge into the sink, swiveling her head to the side to look at Jughead. They stare at each other for a few seconds, and he must notice her reluctance because he sighs before continuing. “It’s late, and you can’t get on the subway with all those things without falling over, so I’ll drive you home.”

 

His face gives nothing away, so she nods slowly and returns her attention to the pan.

 

Sabrina and Toni shuffle around for a few minutes, gathering their things before they each inch closer to her to hug and thank her for the food again. They’re out of the door in seconds, the door creaking loudly behind them.

 

For a while, that’s all she can hear. She notices Jughead taking Toni’s previous position silently, cleaning the last of them before stacking them on top of each other and carrying them to the dishwasher.

 

He’s beside her now, his body turned slightly away from hers as he crouches down and sets the dishes carefully on the racks.

 

“You got really lucky finding an apartment with such a nice dishwasher,” she hears herself saying over the clinking of the dishes as they get pushed next to each other. Her voice is quiet, unsure.

 

He only hums in agreement, intent on setting the glasses and cups in their designed spots, followed by the cutlery. He snaps the dishwasher closed, fingers pressing on the machine as it starts to fill with water.

 

 “Yeah, it’s good to have it. Sabrina loves it, she says she gets an allergy on her hands whenever she washes the dishes,” he explains.

 

“Oh, I get that too sometimes. From the soap, it’s really annoying,” she mumbles. “Gloves help, you should tell her that. Or, well. I guess it doesn’t matter if you guys are using the dishwasher anyway.”

 

He turns to look at her, a guarded expression on his face. Betty opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She turns her attention back to the dark spot, the one she hasn’t been able to scrape off yet. Her eyes stare unblinkingly at it until she feels them starting to water, so she heaves a sigh and takes her hands out from where they’d been scraping under soapy water. She feels his eye follow her as she grabs the closest towel, drying her hands off carefully.

 

“I’m sorry, Jug,” she begins, her hands trembling slightly. She’s not sure if it’s from the change of temperature, going from hot water to the chilly apartment air. She holds tightly onto the towel, twisting it in between her fingers as she gathers warmth and courage.

 

He doesn’t say anything, simply fixes his gaze on the movement of her hands.

 

“I want you to—I _need_ you to know that I didn’t mean anything of what I said the other day.” His eyes dart up to her face, confusion set.

 

She decides to be brave, because they don’t deserve to be plagued by misunderstanding anymore, not if she wants their ending to be the one they’d both dreamed of as teenagers.

 

 “You know what, _no_. Forget I said that. I did mean some of it, but not in the way you probably thought.”

 

He eyes her curiously now, his head tilted to the side at her change of words. She’s not used to this— taking back words, and she thinks he isn’t either. His eyes silently urge her on, so she takes a deep breath.

 

“Some of the things that came up that night—I hadn’t realized how much I resented you for not coming to New York with me. I hadn’t realized that that had been the reason why I started to push you away halfway through sophomore year, because I knew we were starting to drift apart and in my twisted mind pushing you away seemed like a better idea than being pushed away by you eventually.”

 

She pauses then, letting it sink in. She has admitted this to Veronica and Sabrina, but somehow saying it out loud for Jughead to hear is liberating, like a weight being lifted over from her shoulders.

 

His eyebrows are raised up his forehead, surprise evident at her admission.

 

“All these years, I attributed our falling apart to how busy we both were, but that day I realized how selfish I had been, not wanting to get hurt. And— I understand where you were coming from, because I was selfish with another thing too.”

 

She wills her feet to move, closing the small distance that separates them. She touches his forearm lightly, her fingertips tracing slow lines over it.

 

“I was selfish with my heart. It wasn’t a stupid high school crush, Juggie. I felt the same way about you, and I was so stupid for not telling you that while I had the chance, before you left for Boston. I just thought you didn’t feel the same way because you never—”

 

“ _God_ , Betty. I was so gone for you, how couldn’t you tell?” his tone is disbelieving, but a smile is hinting at the edges of his lips.

 

She knows there are so many other things they need to talk and reveal to each other, especially if what everyone’s been saying about Jughead still being in love with her is true. She knows it’s true for her, and she can’t wait to tell him so. But for tonight, she thinks, mending their friendship is a good first step in the right direction.

 

“Well, I could ask you the same question, I practically threw myself at you all of Senior Year,” she half teases, not feeling uncomfortable with admitting it to be true.

 

He snorts, shaking his head at her before pulling her closer to wrap her up in a hug. They both let out a sigh of contentment and relief at the contact.

 

She rests her head on his shoulder, treasuring the feel of him around her, his arms tight against her smaller frame.

 

“I’m sorry too, for ignoring you. I wasn’t angry, not really. You just— you hurt 17 year old Jughead’s ego,” he grumbles against her hair.

 

She giggles, her hands coming up to stroke the hair at the back of his neck, a gesture they’re very familiar with. “ _Just_ the 17 year old’s?”

 

“Well,” he drawls out, his fingers tracing her lower back. “If you must know, my 14 year old self was also pretty hurt over it, and don’t even get me started on 15 year old Jughead, he was _just_ —“

 

“Juggie,” she pokes his shoulder blade, laughing. Her heart flutters at the admission, her smile growing bigger. “By the way, I really like Sabrina.”

 

“Yeah?” He says with a voice that hints of hesitation. “That’s good to know, I thought you guys didn’t really get along after—you know”.

 

“Huh? Why would you think that?” she asks, shifting so they’re still holding each other but she can see his face.

 

“Sabrina’s been radio silent on all things you until the other day when she mentioned you were cooking for tonight, so I just assumed—,” he explains, his brow furrowed.

 

Betty laughs fondly after realizing what Sabrina had been doing; giving him space to brood and feel hurt without the mention of her name every 5 seconds. “Jug, I’ve hung out with Sabrina every day for the past week. And we constantly text. And she calls me, like all the time.”

 

“ _Huh_ ,” he says finally, and Betty wonders if he’s thinking the same as her. A slow grin forms on his face.

 

They stay in silence for a few minutes, Betty returning to the safety of the crook between his neck and his shoulder. Her eyelids begin to feel heavier with each breath he exhales against the crown of her head. She yawns against the skin of his neck, eyelashes fluttering against him.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Juggie. We can start over, you know?” She muffles another yawn, her voice beginning to slur a bit. “Oh, God. Sorry, I went to bed really late last night and had to wake up early to get a good start on the food.”

 

 He hums against her, his fingers tracing higher lines up her back. She nuzzles into him, the motion lulling her further.

 

“You should stay here, Betts,” he says, voice quiet. “You can crash on Sab’s bed.”

 

She mulls it over for a second, another yawn beginning to form before she raises her head from his shoulder.

 

“You know what, I’m sure Sabrina won’t mind if I do, we’re _practically_ best friends by now, you know,” she tells him, a dopey giggle escaping her lips when he presses a kiss to her forehead.

 

“Sure, come on sleepy. Let’s get you to a bed.”

 

 

Sabrina’s room is an overwhelming experience. Her walls are littered with paintings and drawings of planets, tarot cards, and astral signs. She hadn’t realized Sabrina had an affinity for such things, and in her sleepy state she finds herself fascinated by the colors and lines. She trails her fingertips over various drawings as Jughead goes to the dresser in search of pajamas.

 

She notices Salem lying on the bed; his piercing eyes fixed on her every movement.

 

“I didn’t know Sabrina was into this kind of stuff, it’s pretty cool,” she comments, idly moving her eyes to cover the rest of the room.

 

Jughead makes a face at her from across the room and snorts, selecting what looks like an Emerson College shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts.

 

“She’s _obsessed_ to the point of delusion. She was convinced by a street reader back in Boston that Salem is in fact the host of an old dark wizard, stuck in a cat as penance for his crimes,” he explains, a scoff following as Salem turns his eyes on him, as if glaring.

 

She laughs at that, inching closer to the bed to scratch the cat’s back.

 

“Here,” Jughead says, extending the arm holding the clothes. She takes them in her own, muttering her thanks. “There’s a pack of toothbrushes in the bathroom, and uh — _girl_ _stuff_ if you need anything like that. Not that you look like you need anything, I’m not implying that at all —“

 

Betty only laughs at his flustered face, too sleepy to tease him about it. She stands on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering there longer than necessary. He’s smiling widely when she rocks back down on her heels to her normal height.

 

“Night, Betts. I’m right next door if you need anything,” he tells her as he bends his knees slightly to grab Salem from the bed. “I’ll take him to the living room, he likes sleeping on the couch.”

 

“Alright, _night handsome_ ,” she coos to the cat, but her eyes are still on Jughead. He looks up from where he had been arranging Salem’s unwilling limbs under his arm, startled. Betty gives him a sleepy wink. “And goodnight to you too, Juggie.”

 

Once she’s settled into Sabrina’s bed she takes her phone from where she’d left it on the bedside table. Rather than send everyone an individual text with the same content, she opens up the now useless group chat.

 

_Hi guys, staying over at Jug’s_

 

She wants to add more about how she’s sleeping on Sabrina’s bed, but her fingers feel heavy against the screen. She starts to regret it as soon as she puts the phone back down and it starts to vibrate, once, twice. She clutches the pillow under her head with her hand, curls up and turns the light off.

 

 

 

 

The light streaming from the small gap where Sabrina's curtains don't overlap wakes Betty up the next morning. Her eyes take some time to adjust against the brightness as she rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling above her.

 

Slowly, she begins to piece back the memories from last night.    She wonders if she dreamt the whole thing up, because she can’t grasp how easily the entire affair had gone, her apology starting out nervous only to be consoled by Jughead’s arms. Shouldn’t it have involved more awkwardness, more drama? _Maybe_ , she thinks after a few minutes of contemplation, _maybe_ that’s what happens when you have a fall out with a close friend. You’re so worried about their reaction because they just mean so much, but when it comes to it, it’s simple and easy and natural. Or maybe she just got lucky with Jughead. Either way, she’s grateful for it.

 

She shifts on her side again; grabbing her phone from where she’d left it last night and checks the time. It’s 6:02 a.m. and she has 64 messages from the group chat. She scrolls through them, only catching on certain words. There’s a thumbs up emoji from Sabrina at the top after her initial message, and the rest is a combination of question and exclamation marks and teasing and other poorly used vegetables. She sets the phone back down, a smile playing on her lips now.

 

She stretches before sitting up and swinging her legs down the side of the bed. She draws the curtains open, the stream of light making her eyes blink back a couple of times. She turns around and takes on Sabrina’s room again, different from last night.

 

Surely she had been sleepy enough not to notice that the entire wall that faces the bed is covered not with drawings and paintings, but with Polaroid pictures. Sabrina had taken a picture last night, right before they served dinner, all of them sticking their heads out to get into frame. She hadn’t paid much attention to it, only shooting her best smile as her nerves consumed her on the inside.

 

 

Walking closer, she notices Jughead is in a lot of them, by himself and with Sabrina, but with other people too. There’s a picture of him with two older blonde ladies wrapped under each one of his arms, a Christmas tree in the back. There’s one of Jellybean and Sabrina, both girls smiling toothily at the camera, followed by one of Jughead carrying Jellybean on his back as Sabrina stands by them, Christmas hat on all their heads. The clothes look different from the other photograph, so she assumes it’s another Christmas. There’s even pictures of Jughead with Fangs, with Toni, with people Betty doesn’t know. Her eyes move over pictures of buildings and parks, Salem taking a bath with his hair sticking out in all directions as Jughead holds him out mid-laugh, Toni kissing Sabrina under the mistletoe.

 

It’s breathtaking, taking a peek at Jughead’s life in Boston unfiltered. He’s surrounded by so much love, so different from when he had been the broody teenager back in Riverdale, grieving his father’s negligence and his mother’s abandonment. He’s smiling or laughing in every single photograph stuck to this wall.

 

She sits back on the edge of the bed, still facing the wall. She feels grateful for Boston, for the opportunities he had, for the family he found in Sabrina. There’s no way of knowing what could’ve been if Jughead had moved to New York with her, and suddenly it doesn’t matter because this is their _now_ — and she doesn’t want to wait anymore.

 

She tiptoes out of Sabrina’s room, closing the door behind her quietly. She debates whether she should knock or simply push the door open — kept slightly ajar for Salem. She thinks if she knocks she’ll lose her nerve waiting for an answer, so she takes a deep breath and gives a gentle push.

 

His walls are empty, for the most part. There are a few movie posters: Hitchcock and Tarantino, of course . It’s not messy, but there’s no particular order for things either. His curtains, unlike Sabrina’s, close all the way, so there’s no light creeping through a crack.

 

He’s sleeping with his duvet covering half his chest, and Betty thinks she recognizes the upper middle part of an _S_ printed on his t-shirt, probably one of the many he used to wear when they were younger. His mouth is open, light snoring filtering through. She pads closer to the bed, unsure on how to proceed. She wants to wake him, but she also feels bad about it.

 

He mumbles incoherently, making her jump slightly at the interruption of silence. She decides to just wait for him to wake up, hoping he won’t find it creepy. She blindly makes her way with the small beam of light coming from outside to the side of his bed that is empty, gently lowering her body onto the mattress as to not disturb him. He shifts at the dip of the bed, but his eyes stay shut.

 

She turns to the side, facing the wall instead of Jughead. As much as she enjoys the calmness of his sleeping face, she also doesn’t want him to wake up to find her staring at him. She notices the nightstand then, right next to her. There are three identical picture frames sitting at the top, making her breath catch.

 

On the far right, the one harder to squint at in the low light, she’s able  to barely make out Sabrina’s features beside his, and realizes it’s the picture she’s already seen of them, the one she’d found on Facebook. In the middle, there’s Jellybean in a graduation cap as Jughead stands proudly beside her. And lastly, the closest to her is Ethel’s picture — the one sitting in her living room back in her apartment.

 

 

Her heart lurches in her throat, and she feels like breathing has become a luxury for her body. She feels like she’s just been injected with pure joy. The fact that she’s here — flanked by the two most important women in his life, after all these years, after everything she _didn’t_ say for years and every stupid thing she _did_ —

 

“Betty?”  

 

She twists her body around, coming face to face with Jughead ’s fluttering eyes, his voice hoarse. She doesn’t know how to explain why she ’s here without giving the ending away, so she settles on a simple greeting.

 

“Morning, Juggie,” she says, noticing how his eyes struggle for a few seconds before they finally open completely. His eyebrows draw together and there’s a frown setting on his lips.

 

“What time’sit? Is something wrong?” he slurs the first question, clearing his throat to get rid of the sleepiness.

 

She smiles at him, reaching over and smoothing a knuckle gently over his cheekbone. His eyes trail the movement before setting back on her.

 

“Everything’s fine. Everything’s great, actually. I just — woke up and felt like telling you something.”

 

“Mm?” he hums as a question, and Betty decides he’s not awake enough to hear what she has to tell him. She reaches behind her back to grab the frame containing their picture.

 

He stares at her in confusion as she sets it between them, eyebrow quirked up in a silent question.

 

“So you found my copy of it, Nancy Drew,” he mutters, shifting so he’s sitting up against the headboard. Betty mimics him, folding her hands on her lap as she waits.

 

He takes the frame in his hands, turning it around and unclasping it so the picture falls to his lap, their faces colliding with the duvet. Confused, Betty sees the back of it is scribbled on with black marker.

 

He takes a look at the words, a soft smile lighting his features. He taps it once against his palm before he hands it to her, her hand meeting him halfway.

 

_Dear Jughead,_

_I took this picture on the last week of school, just as you two wrapped up your last edition of the Blue & Gold ever. As you can tell, neither of you were aware of me being there. I showed this picture to Betty earlier today, and she asked me to keep it from the yearbook and give her the only file. She told me you wouldn’t want to be included in the yearbook anyway, but I think there was something else there. She deserves to know just as much as you deserve this picture. Stop waiting for the perfect moment to happen, we wallflowers know there never really is one, not really._

_Love, Ethel_

 

Betty reads the inscription once, twice. She traces the lines and twirls that make up Ethel’s loopy round handwriting, risking a sideway glance at Jughead, who seems lost on the movement of her fingers.

 

“So Ethel knew,” she says simply, because she did. She _knew_ .

 

“Yeah,” he responds, watching as Betty grabs the frame from where it lays between them and sets the picture back in. She inches closer to him after putting the frame back in its place, her crossed knee bumping against his hip.

 

“I’m going to have to send her flowers or something. Do you think she’s a bouquet kind of girl?”

 

“Uh, Betty, what are you —“ he begins to ask, but she grabs his hand from where it’s resting on his thigh and cradles it close to her heart.

 

 

“She was _right_ , Juggie,” she whispers. “There really is no perfect moment to do things, and I know last night I said this was us starting over but really — what’s the point if we’re already halfway through?”

 

"Betts , _what_ are you saying?” he murmurs, swiftly invading her personal space as he cups her cheek delicately with his free hand, his eyes brimming with hope.

 

“I ’m saying—" she pauses, because she wants to get it right, for her, for him, heck, even for Ethel.

 

“I’m saying I love you, present tense.” She takes the hand resting against her frantic heartbeat and presses a kiss to his knuckles, raising her head to look at him.

 

He looks baffled; his eyebrows raised high up his forehead as if he can’t quite believe what she just said. Slowly, his face contorts into the most beautiful smile she has ever seen on him, on anyone.

 

“Betts, I love you,” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss against her forehead. “Past,” he moves down to her nose, placing a kiss there too. “Present,” he hovers over her mouth, “And future,” he finishes, his lips finally touching hers.

 

Betty doesn’t know how many times she’s pictured this moment. Once, while they were on her bed, lying face down as they both read their English assignment and she had surreptitiously been sneaking glances to his face, her eyes lingering on his lips, wondering how they’d feel against hers. Another time, after cheer practice when Jughead had dropped by and was waiting to walk her home, and she thought of running to the bleachers, grabbing the front of his shirt and putting her lips on his. In each scenario she had fantasized of, in every combination of place and time, their kiss was perfect.

 

But this right now, this kiss is far from it: after the initial shock of actually kissing each other wears out, Betty realizes how out of sync they are in their movements, both of them eager to learn the shape of the other’s lips. His lips are slightly chapped against hers, their morning breath, while not unpleasant, definitely still present, and she accidentally bites his lip, making them both laugh.

 

It may not be 16 year old Betty’s definition of perfection or romantic, but to her current self, this is what the frilly romance books were all about. Because it’s _Jughead_ , the man she’s been in love with for so long, and she’s not sure she could’ve asked for anything better than this.

 

They both breathe heavily for a minute, from the kissing and the laughing that followed. She doesn’t feel embarrassed for not getting it right the first time, in fact, she thinks it’ll make for an endearing story.

 

Jughead leans forward again, placing an unhurried gentle kiss against her lips again. The kiss starts innocently enough, both of them smiling so hard that they're barely even touching at times. Betty pecks his lips once, twice before he takes the lead and kisses her fully. Their rhythm is better this time, she thinks. Betty moves so that she's halfway on top of him, her side pressed against Jughead's abdomen. He tries pulling her closer but the angle isn't working for him, so in one swift movement he has Betty pinned down under him, his forearms resting on either side of her face.

 

Betty's hands are stroking the hairs at the back of his neck, involuntarily pulling them when Jughead slips his tongue inside her mouth, a new sensation for both of them.

 

Something like a groan escapes Jughead's mouth when Betty bites gently on his bottom lip, this time intentionally, before tangling her tongue with his. Jughead trails a hand down her neck, caressing her collarbone and skimming the tops of her breasts through her shirt. His hand drops to grip her hip tightly, wanting her closer.

 

She’s not sure when they transitioned from gentle exploring to full on make out, but she’s not complaining at all.

 

Betty mewls against his lips, her hands coming up to tangle in the unruly mess that is his bed hair. Jughead peppers kisses down her jawline, slowly exploring her neck, reveling in the little squeaks and whimpers she makes. He places open mouthed kisses experimentally along the side of her neck, making Betty hum her approval. She wants him closer, the warmth of his body over hers is driving her crazy and she needs more. She slides one leg over his hip to hook around his back. Betty feels him hiss against her skin, his hips joining hers in their back and forth as they rock against each other. Without losing his purpose at her neck, he grabs her other leg from the back of her knee and Betty hooks it to the other resting behind his back, reveling in how every inch of hers is touching his.

 

 In the back of her mind she feels some embarrassment for the state in which her underwear seems to be, and she thinks there's no way there currently isn't a spot on Sabrina's pajama shorts that reveals how much she wants Jughead right now. That thought lingers only a second, because as soon as Jughead bites her earlobe and proceeds to soothe it with his tongue at the same time as his right hand disappears under her borrowed night shirt, she's no longer thinking enough to care. She tugs Jughead back to her mouth again, missing him and how soft his lips are. He responds eagerly, his hand teasing around her chest.

 

 He's being respectful, waiting for her to show any sign that she wants to go further. She pecks his lips once more before pulling away, her hands flying to the hem of her shirt to toss it over her head. They're both breathing hard now, Bettys chest heaving in a way that makes Jughead unable to draw his eyes away. Slowly, he begins to trace his fingers lightly up her sides, making her shiver and bite her lower lip in anticipation. Jughead’s eyes are trained on her skin, taking in every detail as his hand skims higher.

 

“Betty, _God_ , you're so beautiful,” he mutters, one finger darting up bravely to touch where she wants him to. His touch on her is lazy, unhurried, slowing her down. This is years overdue, and they’re not in a race to get it over with. “I love you so much.”

 

His eyes are completely focused on her, entranced by the milky expanse of skin she has revealed to him.

 

She moans in surprise as the finger grows bolder, circling her nipple. Encouraged by the sound, he tugs it gently between his fingers, again and again, eliciting encouragements from Betty. She wants to tell him that he can do whatever he wants to her, that she wants him so much that there is an ache she has never felt before deep in her belly.

 

Somewhere in the apartment there's a loud thump. Jughead snaps out of his reverent exploration, his eyes narrowing in the direction of the door.

 

He's about to ask who's out there when a soft voice calls out an apology from the hallway, muffled by the door but still able to make it through the crack left by Betty when she walked in. Betty recognizes it as Toni's voice in between the loud thumping of her quickened pulse.

 

She flushes, grabbing her shirt from the side of the bed and shrugging it on quickly. Jughead relaxes his shoulders as his mind crosses off any danger. There's a knock on the door next, followed by Sabrina's loud voice.

 

“ _Please_ don't have sex; we're right here having breakfast, if you two lovebirds wanna come out of there.”

 

Jughead groans loudly enough to make Sabrina laugh deviously from outside the room. Betty turns her attention back to Jughead, expecting to find annoyance and a snarky comment. He’s staring at the ceiling, a pained expression painted on his face.

 

“You know, I was kind of expecting this to happen.”

 

“You were just lying there half-naked waiting for the moment Sabrina crashed the apartment?” he asks, snapping his eyes to stare at her puzzled.

 

“No, no. That came out weird. I _meant_ , considering how we tend to get interrupted all the time...it was kind of a given that we would get interrupted doing... _that_ too,” she mumbles the end of her sentence, a blush forming on her cheeks as she stands up next to the bed.

 

He chuckles at her embarrassment, pulling her closer by the hips so she stands between his legs. He lifts the hem of the shirt up to where her breasts start to show and leans down to pepper kisses across her navel.

“We... could just...ignore them,” he says between kisses, his hands sliding down from her hips to cup her ass lightly.

 

“Juggie,” she sighs dreamily as he makes his way up across her ribs, teasingly. She shakes her head. “We both know she'll find a way to get in here if we don't come out.”

 

He seems to consider this for a few seconds, humming against her skin and making her laugh as he blows a raspberry on her belly. With a sigh of defeat, he stands up a little awkwardly, their previous position making her stumble back a little. He sets his hand lightly on her hip to steady her before his mouth settles on a smirk.

 

“Okay, Betts. You go ahead.”

 

“What? I'm not going out there on my own, Sabrina won't leave me alone.”

 

“Well, that just sucks for you,” he bops her nose with his finger. “Should have considered that before becoming _practically best friends_ with her.”

 

Betty laughs and rolls her eyes at him as he throws last night’s words at her.

 

“But you see, I currently have a _bit_ of an issue that you caused,” he continues, signaling pointedly to his crotch even as his cheek flush. She blushes too, averting her eyes before he calls her out on staring.

 

“Which I should take care of before Sabrina sees and accuses me of scarring her for the rest of her life, so— good luck.“ He gives her a quick kiss, stepping around her and heading for the bathroom.

 

Her eyes catch on the frames sitting atop Jughead’s nightstand when she walks to the window and peels the curtains open, her smile as bright as the New York morning she just unveiled.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> SOOO the chapter we were all waiting for? Yes? No? Let me know in the comments. I was kinda hit by a writing rush today,so I hope everyone enjoys it! 
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at indiebughead :)


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special mega huge thank you to @bugggghead for beta-ing this chapter for me. You’re the sweetest and I love you!

“So you’re telling me,” Betty says, staring at Sabrina from across the table, “That you don’t like true crime podcasts?”

 

Sabrina rolls her eyes and stops typing on her laptop. “I do like them, just – they irk me.”

 

Betty scoffs, tapping her pen against her open notebook, “What do you mean?”

 

It’s late on Monday afternoon and they’ve been sitting at the same table in the group study section of the library for the most of the day. Late last night, Sabrina had texted Betty asking if she’d be okay taking the day off so they could work on their investigative journalism paper. The request had seemed odd to Betty since it wasn’t due for another 3 weeks, but Sabrina argued that they’d better get a head start on it – and really, how could she say no to that?

 

So she had called her boss at an hour that was definitely unprofessional and asked for the day off with baited breath. Her boss, who seemed unbothered about the hour, had said it was no problem; after all, she had never missed a day at work.

 

“It’s just that,” she pauses, nibbling on her lip, “When Jughead and I first moved in together, he would play the same podcast over and over until it started again. It drove me crazy -- I started having really weird dreams about decapitated old ladies and stuff. It really messed up my aura for a bit.”

 

Betty raises her eyebrows in surprise, only to furrow them together a second later as a thought begins to form in the back of her mind. “What was the name of the podcast?”

 

Sabrina stares at her for a second, her eyes betraying amusement.

 

“ _Small Town Murder_ ,” she responds, and Betty’s suspicions are confirmed.

 

A slow smile starts to form on her lips as she thinks back to years ago, sitting in her bed next to Jughead, eyes wide open in fascination as they listened to the hosts discuss the most gruesome murder cases in small town America.

 

“That was our favorite podcast,” she says through her smile.

 

“I know,” Sabrina responds simply, a twinkle in her eye. “I managed to get that out of him before I declared it to be forbidden from our living room for eternity.”

 

Sabrina goes back to typing on her laptop when Betty doesn’t say anything in return, too lost in her own thoughts to come up with an appropriate response.

 

It’s not until Sabrina snaps her fingers in front of her eyes that she realizes she’s been lost in thought for a while, her mind swirling with thoughts revolving around what the icy-blonde girl in front of her just said.

 

“Time to go, Coop,” she announces, standing up and picking up her things from the table.

 

Betty stares at her intently for a minute, her mind still reeling.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Sabrina stops her movements, her eyes darting from her backpack to Betty.

 

“What do you mean?” she counters back, confusion edged on her features.

 

“I just – I know we talked about this before, but I’m starting to realize the extent in which you helped Jughead, and I just wanted to thank you.”

 

Sabrina’s face softens at this, and she fixes Betty with a grin. “You don’t have to thank me, Betty. I just wanted him to be happy, you know? He was there for me as much as I was there for him, so it really wasn’t a big deal.”

 

Betty thinks Sabrina might be downplaying it a bit, but she nods and smiles nonetheless, standing up and gathering her things from around her.

 

 

 

“I think by now,” Sabrina breaks the silence as they’re walking out of the building, eyes adjusting to the blinking city lights surrounding them, “You should know I like to stick my hands where I shouldn’t.”

 

Betty waits for Sabrina to add something else, even beginning to open her mouth in order to prompt her to continue when she’s suddenly enveloped by two strong arms from behind -- sandalwood and something so uniquely _Jughead_ invading her senses.

 

“Juggie!” she squeaks out when he lifts her off the ground slightly, making her laugh. He presses a kiss to her temple, turning her around slightly so they’re half-facing each other and half-facing Sabrina.

 

Sabrina pretends to gag before she gives them an exaggerated wink. “See? I told you I like to meddle.”

 

“Yes, yes. We owe you one,” Jughead deadpans, but Betty can hear the smile on his face. “Now scramble, Sab.”

 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Betty asks, puzzled. Sabrina simply rolls her eyes and mocks salutes them, turning on her heel and calling out over her shoulder, “See you two lovebirds later!”

 

Betty blinks once and then twice more before she connects the dots. She turns to face Jughead fully now, who’s sporting a wide grin as he appraises her.

 

“Did she make me miss work just for this?” she asks him, tilting her head slightly to the side.

 

Jughead feigns hurt by clutching a hand to his heart. “Ouch, _just for this?_ ”

 

“Shut up,” she mumbles, leaning up to kiss him.

 

“Hi there,” he murmurs against her lips once they’ve pulled away. She beams up at him, taking his hand.

 

He starts to walk in the direction of the Subway station, tugging her along.

 

“So, want to tell me how you two schemed to get me out of work today?”

 

He smirks. “Just like you told me how you conspired with Sabrina to get pretty much our entire group of friends together in order to seduce me?”

 

Betty flushes crimson, hiding her face in the fabric of his jacket.

 

“Who told you?” she mumbles, embarrassment clear in her voice. “And it wasn’t to _seduce you_ , I just – needed to talk to you.”

 

“Archie,” he says simply, a chuckle escaping his lips at Betty’s tortured groan.

 

 _Of course_ , she laments in her head as they make their way down the Subway stairs, swiping their metro cards when they reach the platform.

 

“Fair enough, then,” she says, an amused grin on her face now. “Sabrina should really consider a job in the dating industry - if that’s even a thing. She _really_ loves meddling.”

 

“That she does,” Jughead breathes out, shaking his head.

 

“Can I at least know where we’re going?” she asks just as the train skids to a stop in front of them. Jughead steps through the sliding doors first, creating space for her in the huddled crowd.

 

A warm fuzzy feeling invades her chest at the gesture, and she holds on to him tighter as the doors close behind her and the train begins to move.

 

“So?” she prompts when he doesn’t say anything. He pretends to think about it before sighing in defeat when she pouts her lips.

 

“Fine, you’re going to figure it out soon enough anyway,” Jughead tells her. “A week ago, I went to this really nice taco place with this gorgeous girl,” he pauses when she laughs, a smirk on his lips, “But you see, it didn’t quite go as I wanted it to, so I thought we could try again.”

 

“Is that so?” she drawls out, one eyebrow raised playfully.

 

“I mean, those tacos were pretty good –“

 

She rolls her eyes, poking his side with her free hand.

 

“I meant the _company_ was pretty good. She’s my girlfriend now, you know? We had this really nice day yesterday, but I had to go to work later so I couldn’t take her out. I figured she’d appreciate the surprise,” he explains.

 

Her heart stutters at the word _girlfriend,_ a slow lazy smile forming on her lips as she leans forward and stands slightly on her tiptoes to peck his cheek.

 

“She loves it,” Betty tells him, nuzzling into his side again.

 

“I love her,” he responds, pressing a kiss to her crown.

  
  
  
  
  


 

They make it to _Pedro’s_ after a second train and a short walk, their hands clasped tightly together. Betty thinks to herself that this is, by far, the best date she’s ever been on – and she idly wonders if Jughead dated anyone in Boston as they’re ordering their food. She doesn’t really care, not after knowing everything she does now, and so she lets the thought flush down the drain of her brain.

 

Jughead’s telling her about his day when she remembers the conversation she had with Sabrina earlier. She wonders if he feels the same need as she does to fill in the blank that is Boston to her, just as New York must be for him.

 

There’s a pause in the conversation, Jughead’s chewing and she’s done with her fish taco.

 

“I found out today that Sabrina’s not a fan of true crime podcasts,” she says breezily, gauging his reaction. She wants to know more about Boston, but she doesn’t want to bring back unnecessary memories for him.

 

His expression doesn’t change, he just takes a sip of his drink before answering, “Yeah, I might’ve had something to do with that.”

 

“So I heard,” she says simply, knowing there really is no need to beat around the bush with Jughead.

 

He stares at her with a soft smile and she thinks it’s better to explain herself rather than keep asking cryptic questions.

 

“Look, Juggie – I don’t know if this is the same for you, but now that we’re together, I just want to know everything I missed while we were apart,” she tells him, her voice soft, “And I don’t mean I want to hear everything right now, I just – want you to know that it’s okay to talk about Boston. I want to fill those spaces, so I can know you better,” she finishes.

 

He doesn’t answer right away, just nods and takes her hand from across the table. She’s about to start on her other taco when he begins to speak.

 

“When Sabrina and I met the only thing I could talk about was you,” he starts, “I felt so alone in Boston – and the only thing that made me feel at home was re-telling our stories. But it wasn’t just that, I looked for small details that would remind me of you. I listened to our podcast almost daily, just remembering how your eyes would glow in fascination as we sat there in your bed, how you wouldn’t feel grossed out at the most graphic details but instead you wanted to know more. I –“ he pauses, a red shadow covering his cheeks in the low light, “I learned how to bake, to Sabrina’s amusement, just so I could have a warm chocolate chip cookie and a glass of milk, like we used to do for every movie night at your place. She helped, eventually, once she realized what I was doing. And it wasn’t just you, not really. I willingly went to football games because they reminded me of Archie, and I watched _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ one too many times thinking of Veronica throwing smart commentary while we watched it that one time in sophomore year. I even started buying Blossom maple syrup instead of Aunt Jemima, and that is a secret you have to promise to take to your grave,” he tells her in a serious tone, and she huffs a laugh at his expression. “I didn’t realize I could feel so homesick for a town I never even considered my home, but I did. I wanted to get on a plane and fly back, but it wouldn’t make any sense. I wanted the people of Riverdale, not the town. And Sabrina—god, I’m so thankful for her. If she hadn’t pulled me out of my misery, I would still be stuck in Boston, and I never would’ve taken the chance to come to New York. I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Betty stares at him long after he’s done speaking, her mind working overtime to catch every detail of what he just said. It’s bittersweet because it’s so _Jughead_ and at the same time it isn’t - it’s the _new_ Jughead, the one that learned to grow in Boston. She thinks if she hadn’t been so sure of her feelings for him before, that speech would’ve done it for her. She wants to tell him as much, but she doesn’t think it would do justice to the amount of vulnerability he just shared with her.

“I started to drink black coffee,” she says instead, and she notices her voice quivers. “I watched all the Tarantino movies I could find online, repeatedly, until I could quote them. I dragged Veronica and Cheryl to a Hitchcock marathon downtown during freshman year, and I went back by myself the following years,” she takes a deep breath, “I found a diner near Archie’s place that reminded me of Pops, and I would go out of my way to study there, drinking a vanilla milkshake.”

 

Jughead’s looking at her with an expression that she can only describe as adoration, and she would be uncomfortable with the implications of it if she wasn’t radiating the same sentiment.

 

“I missed you, so much,” she says at last, “and I missed us.”

 

“Me too,” he responds, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand. “I don’t regret Boston, though.”

 

“You shouldn’t,” she surprises herself by saying, and she can tell by the way his eyebrows raise that he is too. “We both got the chance to be ourselves and grow, you know? I see you now and -- you’re the same Jughead I loved when I was 17, but you’re also so different. And that doesn’t change the way I feel about you, because I’m in love with the essence of you, and that hasn’t changed at all.”

 

He gives her the smile, _her_ smile, and Betty thinks if she were a cartoon character her eyes would be popping out of their sockets with pink hearts instead of pupils right now. She tells him as much, which startles a laugh out of him.

 

“You’re amazing, Betts,” he praises her, and she blushes in spite of herself. She decides they’ve had enough serious talk for the night, so she slips her foot out of her flats and presses it against his jean-covered thigh.

 

“You know who’s also pretty amazing?” she asks with an air of flirtation as she runs her bare foot down over his calf.

 

He chokes out a, “who?” just as she brushes her foot over his thigh again.

 

“Sabrina,” she tells him after a beat, laughter in her voice. He stares at her in shock before narrowing his eyes, making her giggle louder.

 

“That’s cruel, Cooper,” he breathes out, pushing her foot down to the floor with a huff.

 

“Seriously though, I love her,” she continues, the teasing tone to her voice less prominent now. “Do you think Veronica will kill me if I make Sabrina my Maid of Honor instead?”

 

Jughead snorts out a laugh, seemingly unfazed by her mention of marriage. She tries to keep the flutters at bay as he gives her a cheeky response.

 

“Back off, Cooper -- I saw her first so she’ll be _my_ Best Man.”

 

She laughs, the image of Sabrina wearing a tuxedo invading her mind.

 

“Hmm,” Betty muses, eyes still crinkling with laughter. “What about Archie though?”

 

“Well, _shit_ ,” he says, shrugging one of his shoulders. “I don’t see how we’ll get married if one of us is dead.”

 

“We’ll figure it out,” she tells him, her breath catching in her throat when he absent-mindedly rubs the place where a ring would sit on her finger.

 

  
  
  
  
  
  


They make their way back to Betty’s apartment in contented silence, their joined hands swinging rhythmically between them. She thinks she’s never felt happier than right now, a sharp contrast to a week before when they had walked this same sidewalk in uncomfortable silence with hands swinging close enough to touch but never doing so, neither of them sure of what the other was feeling.

 

It’s a different kind of happiness, not the kind that makes her jump and giggle, but the kind that settles into her bones with an air of finality and wholesomeness. She knows what she feels right now, and so she decides that she’ll never be shy about it again -- not with him.

 

“I love you,” Betty whispers into the cold September night just as they’re nearing the corner that leads to her apartment building, ducking her head to the side so she can see him.

 

He gives her a soft smile, eyes crinkled and dimples showing as he halts their steps and nudges her closer to him.

 

“I love you too,” he says as he leans in to kiss her, his lips pressing against hers in a gentle caress as he thumbs her cheek with his free hand.

 

They pull away after a few blissful seconds, breaths mingling together as their foreheads touch. He gives her one final peck before sliding an arm to circle her waist, nudging her forward.

 

It’s different than walking with joined hands, but Betty relishes in the feeling of his side pressed up against hers, his hand secured firmly on her hip. She rests her head slightly on his shoulder, so she only has to lean forward a bit in order to press a quick kiss to his neck.

 

They’ve fallen into a pattern of easy affection, one that comes from years and years of knowing each other. And yet, it’s all brand new – every kiss, every hug, every touch. She wants to make sure every single action is cataloged in her mind, burned into her skin and imprinted on her soul.

 

He doesn’t say anything when they reach the door to her building, so she assumes, with an excited flutter in her chest, that he’s coming up with her.

 

They step into the elevator together, and all of a sudden his grip on her hip feels tighter, almost scorching hot against the flimsy fabric of her shirt. She sneaks a sideways glance at him, her lip between her teeth.

 

His eyes are on her face, blue irises darting down to catch the push and pull of her lower lip as it gets sucked into her mouth.

 

“What?” she asks, her voice edging on a whisper.

 

He gives her a lopsided grin, shaking his head and simply pulling her closer to his side.

 

As soon as the elevator dings and the doors slide open to reveal Betty’s floor, the tension cracks. She steps out of the elevator first, but Jughead seems to linger back as the doors close behind him.

 

She’s about to turn around and ask if he’s coming, but suddenly he’s pulling her by the hand and pressing his chest flush against her back.  She giggles at the gesture, feeling his warm breath fanning the side of her neck.

He’s still holding her hand, but he trails his free one down to slide into one of her back pockets, giving her butt a squeeze.

 

“These jeans,” he mouths against her neck, “have been torturing me all day.”

 

Betty belatedly realizes that she’s wearing the pair of jeans that Veronica approves of so much, the ones she’d coincidentally worn the last time they’d gone out together.

 

She smirks to herself, pressing her backside against his front. “Hmm, how would you feel about taking them off?”

 

He doesn’t respond in words but rather makes a pained noise in the back of his throat and turns her around in one swift movement, his lips crashing down to meet hers.

 

She’s so lost in Jughead’s tongue and his roaming hands that she doesn’t realize she’s been walking backward until her back hits her apartment door.

 

She pulls away from him with a wet smack, chest heaving. “Juggie, the door – neighbors,” she manages to breathe out.

 

He seems just as breathless, full lips parted and eyes dazed. He looks so adorably rumpled that she has to restrain herself from dropping her purse and resuming their activities, neighbors be damned -- but then he nods quietly and steps away slightly so she can look for her keys, making her silently pray that they are somewhere reachable.

 

A loud giggle stops Betty’s hand from moving just as she clasps her keys, her head snapping up to meet Jughead’s eyes. His eyebrows are furrowed together, and he almost looks like he wants to ask if the sound came from her. A thud follows, and then louder laughter.

 

“Shut up, you two,” they hear Veronica’s voice say. “They’re going to hear us!”

 

Jughead rolls his eyes hard, forehead slumping against Betty’s.

 

“Are they --?” she whispers, only to be interrupted by a crash.

 

“Sabrina, oh my god,” Cheryl snaps from somewhere inside their apartment. “I can’t hear them anymore, how are we going to know who won the bet?”

 

Jughead’s eyes meet her in an instant, a mixture of amusement and annoyance that she’s sure are reflected on her own – and it only takes a second for them to burst out laughing.

 

When their giggling subsides, they realize that the apartment across from Betty’s has fallen eerily silent.

 

“I’m _not_ letting them cockblock me again,” Jughead exclaims loudly, grabbing the keys from Betty’s hand and unlocking the door in one swift motion.

 

The door cracks shut loudly to the sound of whooping and clapping across the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re still reading this, I love you.
> 
> I’m soo sorry for taking so long to update. I think, and maybe other authors can back me up over here, writing after the main conflict is solved can be a pain in the ass if, like me, you didn’t plan ahead (lol sorry everyone, I’m a mess.)
> 
> Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed this new chapter -- I definitely loved writing it.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Find me over at indiebughead in Tumblr and come chat!


	9. nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta’ed by the lovely @sleuthingbetty. Thank you thank you thank you, I love you.

 

 

To Betty’s surprise, it doesn’t take them long to settle into a comfortable routine. It doesn’t differ much from what she thought it would look like when she enrolled into her post-grad; she still wakes up early and sometimes goes for a run before she has to go to class or to work. The only difference is that sometimes these days she wakes up with warm arms around her, or that she cooks dinner for two instead of for one, or that when she gets home from work, she finds Jughead waiting outside her door with the occasional flowers.

 

It’s only been a few weeks, but she finds herself blissfully lost in the partial domesticity of it all,—partial because there seems to be an unspoken agreement between the two of them to take things slow. She knows they both want to have everything they didn’t get to before, to make up for all the lost time they were apart. She sees it in the way Jughead’s eyes light up completely when she introduces herself as his girlfriend for the first time, or in the way she kisses him hard in the middle of the street just because she can. She’s aware that their coming together was sudden and unexpected, so she doesn’t want to risk their admittedly still very new relationship by racing to tick off all the boxes. She knows Jughead’s on the same page as her because he still sleeps at his apartment most nights, albeit begrudgingly, even if Betty’s is closest to his school and job.

 

Now that she has him, _finally_ has him, she doesn’t want their relationship to implode because they’re taking things too fast—there are steps towards the kind of intimacy they both aspire to have with each other; an intimacy built over time. There’s still so much they don’t know about each other’s lives, their dreams and goals, but they’re not in any hurry.

 

Thursdays rapidly become their favorite day of the week: as soon as Betty hangs her apron and Jughead exits his fictional characters workshop, they’re free to be with each other until the weekend is over and they go back to their busy schedules.

 

The last Thursday of September finds them cuddled up in Betty’s couch, her head on his chest and her body half on top of his, _Buzzfeed Unsolved_ playing on screen. Jughead pretends he doesn’t like it, rolling his eyes and taking every chance to point out all the inaccuracies he can find, but Betty can feel the low rumble of his chuckles against her chest at times.

 

The chilly fall wind rustles past the open window and Betty furrows closer to Jughead, who shifts his arms around her to hold her tighter before he drops a kiss to the crown of her head.

 

“Stay tonight,” she mumbles through a yawn just as YouTube begins loading the next episode. Jughead reaches blindly over her to grasp the remote that’s fallen under the cushions and hits the pause button.

 

“Sure, yeah,” he replies easily. “Why don’t you head off to bed, babe? I’ll lock up.”

 

 

 

She’s tugging on the drawstrings of her pajama bottoms when the calendar hanging from her closet door catches her eye. She squints at it sleepily, eyes trailing over the dates and the single pink lines she draws when her period comes and goes until they catch on a specific date.

 

Jughead enters the room and she watches his reflection on her vanity mirror, suddenly more awake than moments ago. She picks up her hairbrush and goes through her routine before she joins him in bed.

 

“Hey, Jug?”

 

He tilts his head from where it had fallen face-first into the pillow, raising an eyebrow in her direction as she sits on the edge of the mattress, angling her bent knees towards him.

 

“I have a Boston question,” she starts, her eyes moving across his face to gauge his state of sleepiness.

 

“Go ahead,” he says, sitting up against her headboard, extending his arm to pull her closer to him. “What’s it about?”

 

“Your birthday,” she responds, chewing on her lip as she looks up at him from where her head is settled against his shoulder.

 

His eyes fly to the front side of the room and Betty knows he’s looking at her calendar, just as she had before, before they return to rest on her face again.

 

October 2nd had stared right back at her with an imaginary question sign scrawled over it, a curious and somewhat uneasy feeling beginning to stir in her stomach.

 

He gives her a rueful smile. “Is this because my birthday is next week?”

 

She returns his smile as she twirls a lock of his dark hair in between two fingers. “Yes. I just—have been wondering if you ever celebrated it when you were in Boston.”

 

“I didn’t my freshman year,” he begins. “No one knew, and even if I got calls and texts from some people from Riverdale, including you,” he bops her nose with the tip of his index finger. “It was exactly like I’d always wanted it to be, just another day.

 

“Sabrina saw my license at the start of our sophomore year though,” he winces. “And she tried to organize a party for me with a couple of people from our classes, but once I caught wind of it I flat out told her not to bother. I explained why I didn’t want to celebrate it and she seemed to understand where I was coming from, but—“he huffs out a laugh. “Well, you know Sabrina.”

 

“She likes to be involved,” Betty says with a knowing smile.

 

“She does. And I was really pissed at her, at first. But it wasn’t so bad, we’d drive to her aunts’ house, have dinner and cake, and it kind of became a thing we did for the rest of college. No one sang or congratulated me. It was good. Jellybean was even there last year.”

 

Her first instinct is to look for any signs that he’s trying to brush over his feelings on the subject, as he often does, so as to not draw attention upon himself. But the usual signs aren’t there: his shoulders don’t tense up and his voice stays soft.

 

“That does sound good,” she says against the skin of the side of his face after she leans forward to press a kiss on his cheek. “So you’re not opposed to doing something this year?”

 

“As long as it’s just the two of us,” he responds with a slight shrug of his shoulder. “I don’t mind.”

 

Immediately, a plan begins to form in her mind.

 

“Noted.” She gives him a two fingered salute before sliding down to rest her head on her pillow. “Now tell me more about Sabrina’s aunts.”

 

She falls asleep to the sound of Jughead’s soft voice near her ear, his lips brushing her skin as he recounts the tales of Hilda and Zelda Spellman.

 

She dreams of pointy black hats and bubbly cauldrons that night.

.

.

.

 

His birthday falls on a Wednesday, which means Betty’s late night plan is set for the following Saturday. Jughead doesn’t particularly enjoy surprises, especially not on his birthday, so Betty tells him as much as she can without spoiling the twist she’s thought of. They’re going to see a movie, she tells him, just like they had when they were younger. He brightens up after that, no doubt relieved she hadn’t come up with something more elaborate that would make him uncomfortable.

 

They eat cake at Sabrina’s and his place late on Tuesday night. Afterwards, they disappear into the privacy of his room so Betty can show him _just_ how happy she is that he’s one year older, much to Sabrina’s bemusement the following morning.

 

 

“Surprise double feature,” Jughead reads slowly from the billboard in front of them on Saturday afternoon. “What are we watching?”

 

“What two movies did the Bijou play just for you on your birthday?”

 

His eyes move from the ticket booth of The Vortex, the small theater downtown they have tickets for, back to her a couple of times, mouth parted open.

 

“Betts, you didn’t—how would you even…?”

 

“It wasn’t hard,” she brushes off with a shrug, but beams at the sparkle in his eyes. “I simply called and asked for the favor.”

 

“You know them?”

 

“Remember the Hitchcock marathon I told you about?” she asks sheepishly. “Not a lot of people come, and well, I come every year, so they know me.”

 

Jughead simply stares at her in silent awe for a few seconds, the soft smile he reserves only for her threatening to split his face in two.

 

He steps forward and kisses her hard before wrapping her in a tight hug.

 

“I love you so much, this is perfect,” he whispers quietly against the side of her face, fingers tracing her shoulder blades over the material of her coat.

 

“I love you too, Juggie,” she tells him, brushing the lock of hair that’s always flopping over his forehead back. “Wanna go inside?”

.

.

.

 

Halfway through the first movie, _American Werewolf in London,_ Jughead removes the armrest from between them and tugs her closer to him, her right leg resting lightly over his so that she’s almost in his lap.

 

“You know,” he whispers, eyes not moving from the screen. “I spent my last four birthdays before graduation not paying attention to the movie at all.”

 

“No?” she whispers back, setting her hand high on his thigh. “What were you paying attention to?”

 

He turns to her then, his expression a mix of mirth and lust as he smirks at her. “You. It seemed like every year you’d wear a shorter skirt just to kill me.”

 

She giggles softly at this, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt as she smiles demurely. “Maybe I did.”

 

Jughead makes a low sound in the back of his throat that sounds like he’s choking before he tilts her head forward with a finger under her chin and kisses her soundly.

 

They’re halfway out of their seats by the time _Shout_ starts to play on screen, their panting breaths in sync with the music.

.

.

.

.

.

 

“Do we _really_ have to go? It’s so early.”

 

Betty fixes him with a stern look from where she’s standing in her closet, earring dangling off from her left hand as she pulls on the clasp with her free hand before latching it onto her earlobe.

 

Instead of responding to the question she’s been fielding off for weeks with an increasingly exasperated _yes Juggie, we really have to go_ ; she huffs at him through her vanity mirror and says, “I can’t believe you’re not dressed yet.”

 

Jughead lifts his head off her pillow high enough that she can catch his wink, making her eyes roll before he even begins to speak.

 

“That has to be the first time in six months you’ve ever complained about me being naked, Betts.”

 

Unimpressed by his waggling eyebrows, she turns around after clasping on her other earring and heads towards the side of the closet he’s been using when he stays over.

 

“I don’t remember you being this cocky,” she murmurs as her eyes shift over the few shirts of his that hang next to her long dresses.

 

She doesn’t realize he’s making his way over from the bed until she feels his breathy chuckle next to the skin of her neck as he leans over and settles his chin on her shoulder. She tries to not let it distract her from scratching what looks like dried up dirt from his plain white shirt, even as his hands circle around her waist and pull her closer.

 

“It’s really _hard_ not to make a dirty comment right now,” he says smugly, earning him a groan from Betty as she swivels around and disentangles herself from his arms, setting her own hands over her hips as she narrows her eyes at him, unfazed by now by his naked form.

 

“Hurry up; we’re going to be late.”

 

As her stern look comes back—the one where the space between her eyebrow creases and her impossibly round eyes narrow, all combined with a slightly jutted out bottom lip—he slumps his shoulders and raises his palms in defeat. “Fine, but only because they promised there would be brunch burgers.”

 

She rolls her eyes and hands him the hanger, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips, her feet already moving towards the door.  He has other ideas, though, and so he settles his hand on the back of her neck to stop her from going any further and pull her closer. She mewls against his lips when he teases her bottom lip with his teeth and then his tongue, her body melting into his as her arms find their way around his neck.

 

He chases after her lips when she finally pulls away, her hands moving from their previous position to shove him lightly on the chest as she huffs in faux annoyance.

 

She opens her mouth to warn him about the time again, but it dies on her lips as soon as she feels _something_ poking the front of her dress. Amused, she darts her eyes down and up again, eyebrows quirked up at his sheepish expression. “ _Jughead Jones_ —“

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but the boyish grin that’s etched on his face tells her he’s really not.  

 

Betty simply laughs, once again moving away from him. “Think about burgers,” she suggests from over her shoulder as she checks her purse for her wallet and metrocard.

 

He groans. “Betty, _baby_ , that’s not helping.”

 

“Gross,” she mutters, turning around once she finds everything she needs in its place and slings her purse over her shoulder.

 

Jughead’s slowly moving towards the bathroom, his predicament still fairly evident.

 

“Remember when Archie ate all those _Haribo_ gummy bears on a dare and got _real_ bad diarr—?”

 

He interrupts her, a pained expression on his face as he relives the memory. He’d had to share the bathroom with Archie back then. “That’s so—why would you even— _gross_.”

 

“I love you, too. Hurry up.”

 

He glares at her smirking face as he shuts the bathroom door.

.

.

.

 

They make it out of the platform just in time to catch Cheryl’s bright red coat and Veronica’s signature black Louboutin pumps disappear through the door of the trendy upper side restaurant of their choice.  Betty’s low heeled boots thump loudly against the concrete as they cross the street, her hand clasped securely in Jughead’s.

 

“What do you think they want to tell us?”

 

“Whatever it is, I'm sure I've only been invited as a pleasantry,” he replies sourly as he's reaching for the door. Betty's hand on his forearm stops him as she glides her fingers down to his wrist in order to grasp his fingers and pull him to the side, door forgotten.

 

In truth, she'd been waiting for this moment ever since she first relayed the invitation to Jughead a few weeks back, and while she would've appreciated to have this conversation somewhere private, she's also grateful he finally snapped before they met up with Cheryl and Veronica.

 

“You know that's not true, Jug,” she says. “They're our friends.”

 

He sighs as he casts a glance at her. Her expression is the same as all those years ago when he'd tried to convince her, convince _himself,_ that he didn't belong anywhere, that he didn't belong in Riverdale. _You belong here just as much as everyone else_ , she'd told him. _This is your home._

 

She brushes his cheek gently and rests her palm on the side of his neck, head tilted slightly to the side so she can look up at him better through her long lashes, but his eyes dart to the side instead of meeting hers.

 

“They're _your_ friends,” he counters back, the corners of his mouth turned downwards.

 

“I know this isn’t exactly your scene babe, and that it makes you uncomfortable,” she tells him in what she hopes is her most understanding tone. “But they really want to be your friends, if you’ll let them.”

 

“They said that?” he asks skeptically, turning to her with raised eyebrows.

 

She huffs out a laugh. “Not with those exact words, no. But Cheryl was the one who invited you, if that counts for anything.”

 

“Was she putting needles into her voodoo doll of me as she spoke, by any chance?” he asks snarkily, but by now Betty can recognize his resolve melting with the way his eyes crinkle at the edges with a masked smirk.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jones,” she warns slyly before pecking his lips quickly. “Come on, we don't want to make them wait.”

 

 

 

 

Inside, the hostess nods as they hand in their coats and give their names, before she motions to a table near the front of the restaurant and says, “Blossom-Lodge, party of five.”

 

Confused, Jughead opens his mouth to ask who the fifth member is, when a small tan-skinned lady suddenly appears in front of them, hands on her hips as her impossibly close eyebrows scrunch up further.

 

 _“Isabel, ¡llegas tarde!_ ”

 

Betty looks surprised for a second before her face breaks out into an apologetic grin as she steps forward to hug the woman, whose face softens significantly as she allows the show of affection.

 

“ _Perdón, Adela_.” Jughead's certain more words are exchanged, but between his lack of Spanish vocabulary and his surprise at Betty's, he doesn't catch much until his name is brought up.

 

“And this must be Jughead,” she says, and Jughead is surprised to hear that her accent is almost imperceptible. “I've heard a lot about you.”

 

He doesn't know how to tell her that he's not sure who she is, but thankfully, sweet Betty saves him from the embarrassment as she holds out her hand to him, motioning him to step closer.

 

“Juggie this is Adela, Ronnie's grandma,” she explains as she subtly tugs him closer to said lady.

 

“Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.—” he starts, mustering the most polite voice he can. It's coincidentally the same he used to reserve for one Alice Cooper, back in the day where he swore she could see right through him and knew he was fantasizing about kissing her daughter as he waited for Betty downstairs as she finished getting ready for school.

 

“There's no need for the Mrs, Jughead dear,” she says sweetly before pulling him down for a hug, and then she adds, a bit more forcefully, “Don't ever call me Mrs. Lodge, if that's where you were going.”

 

“Uh—” he stutters just as Adela lets him go with a wink. She grabs his hand and Betty's in hers as she starts to tug them towards the table.

 

“Let's head to the table, _¿si?_ The girls are waiting for us.”

 

“Oh good, you've already met _abuelita_ ,” Veronica says with a smirk as soon as she spots them making their way to where Cheryl and her are sat. They both stand, and to Jughead's absolute surprise, deliver kisses to his cheek as greeting before sitting back down.

 

“Ronnie, you didn't tell me Adela was coming today,” Betty says politely as soon as they're sitting, with Adela at the head of the table.

 

“Oh, it was a total surprise! She wanted to meet Jughead, so we thought we'd organize this little outing,” she replies nonchalantly, sending a discreet wink Jughead's way over the pages of her menu.

 

“We thought Jughead would  thoroughly enjoy the surprise,” Cheryl adds in her sticky sweet voice, red lips forming a smirk. “Didn't you, _Juggie_?”

 

Jughead rolls his eyes in the direction of both girls, directing his answer towards Adela instead as he grins. “Who wouldn't?”

 

Adela giggles and puts a hand on his forearm, leaning slightly against him. “Oh, you're a charmer. No wonder you've got Betty so _enamorada_.”

 

Betty blushes at this, but squeezes his hand tighter under the table as they share a small smile.

 

They take a minute to peruse the menu, Veronica throwing in a few recommendations before Cheryl waves a waitress over.

 

“I'll have the classic burger with a side of sunny side up eggs and fries, and a strawberry swirl milkshake. Oh, and a black coffee,” Jughead says in one breath as soon as the waitress opens her mouth to ask for their orders. Just as his mouth forms the last syllable, his stomach decides to rumble loudly.

 

 

All three girls snap their heads up from the menu, their eyes flying immediately to gauge Adela's reaction. Betty's show concern, Veronica's amusement, and well, Cheryl's can only be described as mirthful.

 

Adela throws her head back and laughs.

 

“Good, a man with an appetite knows how to provide for his family, “she declares approvingly in Jughead's direction. “You'll do, dear.”

  
  


.

.

.

.

.

“Coop!”

 

Betty whips her head over her shoulder in time to catch Sabrina bounding down the steps of their building, icy blonde mane swinging over her shoulders as she catches up with her.

 

“Got a minute?” she asks, breathless. Betty links their arms together and leads them to the bench they’ve now used countless of times to sit and talk.

 

“What’s up, Sab?” Betty asks, a light tint of concern in her voice. Sabrina seems to catch it though, as she shakes her head and gives the other blonde a reassuring smile.

 

“It’s good news, I swear,” she says, tongue running over her bottom lip excitedly as she claps her hands together. “Toni’s moving to the city!”

 

Betty lets out a delighted squeal which turns into a peal of laughter when Sabrina joins her, arms going around each other’s shoulders. “Sabrina, I’m so happy for you guys!”

 

“Thank you, I can’t tell you how excited I am about it,” says Sabrina before they disentangle themselves. “There is one thing, though, that I wanted to consult with you before I talk to Jughead.”

 

Later, as she’s walking towards the coffee shop she sees a young couple trudging up the stairs of their apartment, grocery bags filling their arms as they bicker over who has the keys. She slows down her pace just in time to hear the guy laugh with fondness as the girl presents the key from out of her back pocket. She walks past them just as they both lean in for a kiss, grocery bags threatening to spill down the stairs and into the sidewalk.

 

She smiles.

.

.

.

  


“Bed?” he asks her late that night as the end scene of _Rear Window_ plays on the t.v screen.

 

“You go ahead, I’ll do the dishes and I’ll be right there,” Betty tells him, rubbing his shoulder lightly before heading to the kitchen.

 

She reaches up to get a new scrubbing sponge from one of her top cupboards, turning around to dispose of the old one. Jughead’s not on his way to her room, but instead he melts into one of her kitchen stools, his cheek resting easily atop the cold counter.

 

“You really need to get a dishwasher, Betts. I can’t believe I'm going to say this—and you can't tell anyone I've ever showed my support towards the societal consumerism behind kitchen appliances, but— I don't know how I went all my life without one.”

 

She resists the urge to mock him and instead, without giving it much thought, says,“Well, better start getting used to it again.”

 

There's a pause. She sneaks a glance at him from over her shoulder.

 

He’s looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed close; his hands paused midway through his dark locks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Betty half-sighs, and as she rinses her hands off and turns the water off she’s reminded of a time where they’d been in an extremely similar position. Only this time, she’s not scared. This time, she thinks of the couple on the street as she faces him with a grin.

 

“It means,” she starts, making her way over to his stool. “That Sabrina informed me today that she needs to get rid of her annoying, brooding roommate.”

 

He looks surprised, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, but he cracks a smile at her teasing tone, swiveling his stool so that he can pull her in between his legs, her arms automatically finding their place around his neck. “Is that so?”

 

“Mhm,” she nods, flicking the hair on the back of his neck back and forth in between her fingers. “You see, her girlfriend is moving in to the city, so she was wondering if I’d take him.”

 

His eyes search hers in silence for a beat before he whispers, “will you?”

 

She gives him a soft smile as she traces the line of his jaw up to his ear and back down again, as she hums and quirks an eyebrow teasingly at him.

 

“Well, I’d love to, but I hear he _needs_ a dishwasher and I don’t have one—“

 

“Shut up,” he laughs, and before she knows it she’s being twirled around the kitchen, her face and lips getting attacked with kisses.

 

“Should I tell her the issue’s taken care of, then?” she asks breathlessly as he backs her into the counter and starts trailing his lips down the column of her neck.

 

“Issue? What issue?” He pants against the delicate skin of her throat, a hint of slyness on his voice. “He’ll move out tomorrow, there’s no issue.”

 

“Juggie—”she stops his wandering lips over her collarbone as she cups his chin and raises his face to hers. “Really?”

 

“Really, baby,” he assures her, his lips meeting hers in a soft caress.  “Now tell me, is there _anything_ I can't eat in our kitchen?”

 

“Jughead!” she screeches with a shake of her head, but her voice is quickly replaced by her giggles as their clothes drop to the floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! I updated! Eeeeeek! 
> 
> I’m so so so so excited to hear your thoughts about this one. It might be my favorite chapter ever, and I had so much fun writing it (that is, when I wasn’t ripping my hair out in frustration.)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience and support-- it means the world to me and I love you all.
> 
> Please drop me a comment if you have the time!
> 
> If you wanna have a laugh, here’s the article with the Haribo gummy bear reviews. I still laugh about it years later.
> 
> https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/michaelrusch/haribo-gummy-bear-reviews-on-amazon-are-the-most-insane-thin
> 
> *** is it too obvious that I'm making up for my lack of smut by giving you suggestive scenes? Lemme know. 
> 
> As always, find me at @indiebughead on Tumblr if you wanna chat.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fiction ever, so please dont judge me too hard. I really wanted to explore the Betty/ Sabrina friendship, and of course a Bughead storyline. Leave a comment if you like it! Title inspired by The War on Drugs- Thinking of a Place.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title from: It All Feels Right by Washed Out.


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